


Natural Inclinations

by AKMars



Category: Person of Interest (TV)
Genre: Adventure, Humor, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-05-18
Updated: 2013-05-14
Packaged: 2017-11-05 14:07:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 25,401
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/407283
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AKMars/pseuds/AKMars
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Reese wants to go camping....Finch wants nothing to do with it...much hilarity ensues. There will be slash ahead. Don't like? Then stay in town. For the rest of you: ROAD TRIP!   **THIS STORY IS NOW COMPLETE!**</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Title: Natural Inclinations  
Chapter I: The Call of the Wild  
Rating: M (slash, est. relationship)  
Pairing: Finch/Reese  
Genre: Romance/Humor/Adventure

Notes: This is the result of having a rabid plot-bunny sicced on me by a concerned third party (you know who you are and this is ALL your fault!). Anyways, this explores what might happen if John starts feeling edgy and wants to get away for the weekend....camping...with Harold.....hilarity ensues. Yes there will be slash. Don't like, then stay in town. For the rest of you: ROAD TRIP!!!

**poipoipoipoipoipoipoipoipoi**

 

"I don't believe I heard you correctly, Mr. Reese. You want to do _what_?"

"I said I want to go camping...with you Harold."

"Camping..." Finch repeated, with all the enthusiasm he would if John had said 'crawl through a sewer pipe'.

"Yes, Harold... _camping_. Sleeping in a tent, outdoors....hiking in the woods, bird-watching, maybe even fishing." Reese flashed his partner a true grin, not his usual smirk.

The billionaire could see that his op was excited at the prospect of his going on a jaunt to the country. He sighed, weighing his options.

"No."

The grin disappeared at once. "What?!"

"At the risk of repeating myself, I said 'no'."

"Why, Finch?"

"My allergies, my limitations with mobility and my aversion to leaving the city and its comforts for any reason make the short list. Aside from those very obvious considerations, there is no power on earth capable of enticing me into spending forty-eight hours in the middle of nowhere, dealing with mosquitoes and ticks at the very least and God knows what other wildlife that might show up."

Finch folded his arms and fixed the ex-CIA man with his most disapproving stare.

Reese looked about ready to explode for a moment....then all at once his building anger bled away and the operative gave his partner a huge smile. His compelling blue eyes were hooded as he gazed speculatively at the older man.

"What if I said I'd make it worth your while?" The sultriness infusing his quiet voice raised the small hairs on the back of Finch's neck.

The billionaire snorted, even as he adjusted his collar; determined to ignore the reaction. "I doubt anything you could offer would be sufficient."

"Really? Think about this then..." Reese moved over to stand behind the recluse, lightly resting his hands on the other man's shoulders...his thumbs brushing the sides of his neck. Finch cleared his throat but made no effort to move away.

"Just you and me...no-one else around for miles. Where I'm thinking of, there's a beautiful stream with great places to swim. Even if you don't like to, _I do_. That should provide some interesting scenery don't you think?"

Finch cleared his throat again, shifting beneath John's hands as the op continued to stroke his neck. "I'm not sure that-"

Reese leaned in, his lips hovering over the recluse's ear; whispering.

"The fresh air energizes me Harold....makes me happy, relaxed...inclined to _stay put_ for longer periods of time than I normally do. Especially if the one person I would be worried about leaving is there with me." He breathed into his partner's ear. "I'm very agreeable when I'm _relaxed_ Harold."

Knowing the billionaire's penchant for cuddling (who knew such a fiercely private man would turn out to be so tactile), Reese planted a light kiss on Finch's ear.

"Wha- _mmm-hmm_. What about the numbers?" The older man's voice had a definite quiver in it now.

“You’d have your laptop and cell with you of course. I can’t imagine you going anywhere without them. If a number comes up we’ll come straight back. We’ll only be a couple of hours outside the city anyway.”

“If you consent to go to a location of my choosing then I might be inclined to agree.”

Reese dropped his hands, stepping back from Finch. “No hotels, Harold. No lodges, cabins, or cottages...otherwise there’s no point in going.”

Finch sighed...the last of his hopes for a civilized trek dashed. He still could refuse but....traitorous thoughts of a sedentary John Reese, dozing at the billionaire’s side, his tanned skin warm from the afternoon sun flitted through his mind. 

“I happen to own a hundred acres or so up in the Adirondack region. It is private and has many areas that would be suitable for your requirements. In addition, we could be there and back, if necessary, in half an hour. The charter service I utilize for traveling can land a helicopter at the main site. I’ll also have a vehicle standing by to carry gear. Hiking in to the more remote areas would be impractical for me after all.”

“Deal.” Reese stepped around to face the recluse. “I‘ll start getting our supplies together. How soon can transport be arranged?”

Finch watched his very happy partner settle in front of one of his computers and log onto an outdoor supplier website. “I know I’m going to regret this....” he muttered, even as he pulled out his cellphone to call the charter company.

**poipoipoipoipoipoipoipoipoi**


	2. Hit The Trail!

Title: Natural Inclinations  
Chapter II: Hit The Trail!  
Rating: M (slash, est. relationship)  
Pairing: Finch/Reese  
Genre: Romance/Humor/Adventure

NOTES: This one is rolling out of my brain with very little effort. Which only goes to prove that Mamahub's plot-bunny was contagious indeed. ENJOY!

**poipoipoipoipoipoipoipoi**

 

To Finch’s secret relief and John’s slight disappointment, the plans for their weekend away were put on hold by a string of back-to-back numbers that had to be resolved. 

When the last of them, a forty-something sanitation worker by the name of Frankie Martin (who’s penchant for betting on the ponies had gotten him in trouble with a local bookie) was out of danger, the recluse wanted nothing more than a long, hot shower and to curl up on his favorite custom therapeutic support bed with a stack of good books. 

To his dismay, his partner had declared it would be the perfect time to pick up and go on their trip to the woods. John Reese was even more excited about the prospect than he had been when he first proposed the idea.

For the past two weeks, the billionaire had been forced to put up with Reese's ever growing stack of boxes as the gear he'd ordered began to arrive. Finch put his foot down with the canoe, however...insisting that the boat be shipped to the garage on his Adirondack property and _not_ a mail drop in town. Enough was enough.

"Mr. Reese, correct me if I'm wrong but we are going camping for just a weekend, yes?"

"Yep." The ex-CIA man was busy studying a topo map of their proposed location. 

“Just the two of us?”

“Yep.” Reese scrawled feverishly in a small notebook, only paying half-attention to the other man’s words.

"Then would you mind explaining to me why you've stockpiled enough...'utensils' to supply an infantry platoon?"

The op looked up from his map, a puzzled frown on his face. The recluse flapped an irritated hand at the assorted outdoor paraphernalia cluttering up his reading room. Reese followed the gesture with his eyes and grimaced...having the grace to look a bit embarrassed.

“Okay...so I might have gotten a bit carried away.”

Finch held up a translucent plastic sphere the size of a volleyball, bright green in color. “What precisely may I ask is this?” He turned it over in his hands a couple of times before admitting defeat in as far as making an identification of the thing. “Have you acquired a pet hamster that you would like to have accompany us?”

“It’s an ice-cream maker, Finch.” Reese’s expression indicated that he wanted to roll his eyes but stopped short in deference to his partner’s current mood.

“An ice-cream maker.... well things have certainly changed since I was a youngster.” Finch’s incredulity was manifest.

Reese got up and took the ball from the recluse. He unscrewed two caps on the side. “Look, ice and salt go in the outer ring and ingredients for ice cream go in the center.” He popped the caps back on.

“And how pray tell, do you mix them together?”

“You...um, play with it.” John mumbled, feeling his cheeks flush.

“Excuse me, Mr. Reese...I didn’t quite catch that.”

“You play with it...toss it back and forth. In fifteen minutes or so you have homemade ice cream.” The op mimed throwing it to Finch who regarded his partner as if he’d lost his mind. Reese looked down at the ball, rubbing an index finger over its smooth surface. “I thought it sounded fun.” 

Harold Finch felt his cheek twitch, but whether from annoyance or amusement he wasn’t sure as both emotions were warring within him. He looked at the younger man in front of him...his employee who’d managed to become his friend and in recent months, so very much more. 

The man, who at the moment more resembled a ten-year old trying to explain why he wanted to build a rocket ship in the backyard; rather than the strong, capable warrior that he was, fidgeted as he waited for a sarcastic comment from the billionaire. It was endearing and the recluse felt his heart contract a bit. Finch hid his smile as Reese looked up at him again.

“Well....I prefer French vanilla over strawberry and just so you know, I won’t be the one chasing after it if I happen to miss-catch.”

The smile his partner flashed at him, melted the last of Finch’s annoyance away. _Maybe I will enjoy this after all._

**poipoipoipoipoipoipoipoi**

 

All the arrangements were in place. The equipment had been sorted out to Reese’s satisfaction and delivered to the charter service and barring a new number coming up in the meantime, the billionaire’s driver was scheduled to pick them up at the ungodly hour of eight a.m. This had almost been the last straw for Finch.

 

_“Eight o’clock in the morning, Mr. Reese?!”_

_The op nodded, adjusting the straps of the daypack he insisted on taking with him, instead of sending on with the rest of their gear. “I want to get there early for maximum time at the site.”_

_“Still....eight o’clock?” Finch protested. He was normally an early riser but being awake at seven for him meant (unless a number was being worked) a good one to two hours of reading while enjoying his morning tea. Then a shower, breakfast...the joy of choosing which suit to wear and of course finding the perfect tie/pocket square combination to go with it. Realistically, if he was at the library by ten-thirty on a slow day, it was only to be expected._

_To be ready to walk out the door at eight in the morning was....barbaric._

_Finch had sighed once more (he seemed to be doing that a lot lately). How could he possibly have thought this would be in any way a pleasurable experience? “Fine...but that means we go to bed early! No staying up late looking at maps.....”_

_“Fine by me.” Reese flashed that happy grin at him again; the one that made Harold feel warm inside._

 

The recluse exhaled in happiness, allowing his injured body to relax into the welcoming embrace of the thick memory-foam mattress; mindful that this would be the last time in a long, forty-eight hours that he would be able to do so. 

This time tomorrow he, Harold Finch...billionaire software engineer and designer of the most sophisticated surveillance system on the planet would be lying in a down-filled, nylon bag on the hard ground...covered in mosquito bites and wishing (he was certain) that a bear would come along and put him out of his misery by mauling him to death. _Ah...the lure of rustic bliss..._

He closed his eyes, trying to push his anxieties out of his mind enough to be able to sleep.

“Harold?”

“Mmmm?”

Finch felt his partner move in beside him on the bed; the op’s larger frame a source of warm comfort that the recluse admitted to himself he’d come to enjoy very much. The recluse turned towards the younger man without thinking, seeking closer contact.

Reese gathered his partner in his arms, snugging him up against his chest.

“Thank you....for agreeing to come with me.” The op’s voice oozed quiet contentment as he rubbed his nose in Finch’s short-cropped hair.

“Oh...well.” The billionaire was flustered a bit, as he often was when Reese became more demonstrative than usual. He slipped a hand up his partner’s pecs to rest on his shoulder. The op’s heartbeat was strong and steady against his own chest, lulling Harold into a state of drowsy happiness. “You’re welcome John. I-”

The remainder of his remark was cut off as the ex-CIA man bent his head and brushed his mouth over Finch’s. Reese’s lips were gentle as he explored the billionaire’s; teasing the other man’s mouth open with his tongue and saying without words just how much he cared about him.

The recluse gripped his partner’s shoulder in tight fingers while his other hand reached up to cup Reese’s face, his thumb stroking across the plane of his cheekbone. He cherished quiet moments like this the most. All too often they were both exhausted from working a number....John was injured or Harold was working through some mental puzzle to do more than just collapse into bed and unconsciousness.

The luxury of just enjoying each other’s presence was at the top of Harold’s list of pleasures now. He savored every encounter fiercely, whether it was as simple as this or more intimate. He took nothing in regards to his relationship with John for granted. Neither of them knew how much time they would have. With these thoughts in mind, the recluse returned his partner’s kiss in full measure; feeling a flush of heat course through him.

“I promise we’ll have all the time we need when we reach the campsite tomorrow, Harold.” John murmured in his ear once he’d released the older man’s mouth. “I want this just as much as you do...you _know_ that.” 

Finch did and, breathing deep to settle the shivers of anticipation that Reese’s kisses had aroused in him, nodded. “You’re right of course. However,” and he looked up into John’s eyes. “I’m holding you to it, Mr. Reese.”

“Anything you say, Mr. Finch.” The op gave him one last kiss on the temple and then settled his head on the pillows next to the billionaire’s. Finch untangled one arm long enough to remove his glasses and turn out the light.

“Good night Harold.”

“Good night John.”

**poipoipoipoipoipoipoipoi**


	3. Into The Woods

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 'The way is clear, the light is good;  
> I have no fear and no-one should.  
> The woods are just trees, the trees are just wood.  
> So...into the woods and out of the woods;  
> And home before dark!'  
> -Into the Woods, Stephen Sondheim

Title: Natural Inclinations  
Chapter III: Into the Woods....  
Rating: M (slash, est. relationship)  
Pairing: Finch/Reese  
Genre: Romance/Humor/Adventure

NOTE: the ice cream maker from Chapter 2 does in fact exist. Go to campmor.com and check it out, it is pretty cool. Chapters 4, 5 and 6 will deal with the actual ‘camping experience’. More to come very soon and thanks for the great reception ‘Natural Inclinations’ has gotten so far. It’s been a hoot to write!

**poipoipoipoipoipoipoipoi**

 

Harold Finch was lying on his back in a patch of cool, green grass. The turf was surprisingly soft and comfortable beneath him, more so than he would have thought given that he was on the ground. His eyes were closed, glasses off. The fact that he was naked didn't trouble him in the slightest either. He accepted it just as he did the peacefulness of his surroundings and the warm weight of his companion draped over him. 

The weight shifted slightly and the billionaire felt the exhalations of breath stirring his chest hair. A contented rumbling that Harold felt more than heard vibrated against his skin. He had to smile...it was such a happy sound and the tongue that began licking his pectorals felt very, very nice. 

He cracked open his eyes to smile at his friend only to meet the bright gray gaze of a mountain lion. _He gasped and tried to sit up, jerking himself into consciousness._

"Easy Harold...." Reese pushed him back down.

" _John_...are you trying to kill me?!" Finch winced as his neck muscles protested and he willed his heart to slow down before he had a coronary.

The op was sprawled half over the billionaire's slighter frame, both of them in the king-sized bed they'd gone to sleep in the night before. He blinked sleepily at his partner, Reese's form a flesh-colored blur without the benefit of his glasses. 

"What time is it?"

"Six a.m." John replied, his voice reflecting an indecent level of cheer given how early it was. 

"I wanted to make sure you woke up in time and thought this might be more enjoyable than having an alarm in your ear."

So saying, the ex-agent resumed pressing kisses into the recluse's chest, paying particular attention to his right nipple. His tongue snaked out again to trace the dark brown aureole, prodding the sensitive flesh until it began to tighten.

Finch closed his eyes again, a soft moan escaping his lips as he surrendered to Reese's touch. _Dear God, what is it about John that makes me so...._ "Aaahhh...".

The op covered Finch's nipple with his mouth, alternating suckling on the taut peak of flesh held captive between his teeth and flicking it with his tongue.

"John... _nnngghh..._ "

Reese bit down then lifted his head, the suction pulling the flesh up for a second before his mouth broke its connection.

The billionaire whimpered, writhing underneath his partner. He felt heat pooling between his thighs. "Don't stop there.... _please_." He should feel embarrassed at begging the other man to continue but the op's attentions were too enjoyable to worry about such mundane concerns as proper behavior.

"If you want more, you'll have to join me in the shower. I don't want us to be late meeting the car." Reese rolled off of him and the recluse shivered at the loss of warmth.

Finch growled something under his breath that sounded like "sadistic bastard" but he levered himself up into a sitting position and limped into the bathroom. _I can answer any call of 'nature' I have just fine right here thank you._ He flushed the toilet and slipped out of his pajama top, hanging the garment neatly on the door hook.

Harold felt Reese's strong hands circle his waist from behind, reaching around his abdomen to pluck at the ties on his sleeping pants. With a determined tug, the string came loose and the soft linen trousers slid over the recluse's hips to pool around his ankles.

"Feel like getting cleaned up?" The op's breath tickled his ear.

"In due time." He felt Reese's answering smile and they both stepped into the oversized shower stall.

**poipoipoipoipoipoipoipoi**

 

Two hours later saw both men clean, shaved and ensconced in the back of a limousine with hot tea and coffee at their respective elbows. The warm afterglow that had sustained the billionaire up to now had faded and worry about how this sojourn to the forest was going to turn out stepped in to fill the void.

In addition, he was feeling rather grumpy about the attire his op had chosen for him. In all fairness, Finch couldn't even complain about it. Reese was wearing cargo shorts identical to the recluse's. _Except he looks like a cover model for 'Backpacker Today' and I resemble a stork in a brown diaper. On the bright side, if there's an emergency we can always use my blindingly white shins as signal devices._

At least the younger man had given him a short-sleeved button up shirt to wear. He kept stealing glances at his partner, however; admiring the tight-fitting, sleeveless undershirt Reese sported. The thin white cotton off-set the ex-agent's darker skin tone beautifully. Harold wasn't jealous because he knew the other man's outfit was for his benefit alone (as evidenced by the smirk on John's face). 

They both had thick hiking socks and lightweight boots (Reese had made sure that the billionaire's had insole supports that actually did help relieve the pressure on his spine a bit) to complete the look.

In spite of his partner's very thorough preparation, Finch still couldn't help but have his reservations. _I wish we did....there are so many nice lodges in the area. With all modern conveniences, fine restaurants and guides that could take Reese anywhere he wanted to go for outdoor activities._

Still, he'd promised Reese he'd come and he wouldn't back out now. For all he knew the op had bribed his driver not to turn around if his employer asked him to.

**poipoipoipoipoipoipoipoi**

 

_Never, never, ever again will I get into a helicopter_ , Finch silently promised himself as he hunched in abject misery on the rustic wooden bench beside the helipad. Sixty seconds into the half hour flight, the recluse had been overwhelmed with motion sickness. Reese had passed him a barf bag just in time to catch what little he'd been able to stomach for breakfast. Harold had spent the remainder of the trip clutching the waxed paper receptacle to his chest and debating whether or not to just jump and take his chances.

Now that he was on the ground, where he belonged, Harold was feeling a touch better. His partner had given him some Dramamine and promised not to put him in the land vehicle until it started to work. In John’s defense, he had been very solicitous of the billionaire’s feelings; even if Finch swore he saw the younger man trying not to laugh at him. 

_Let’s just get through this. Reese will get it out of his system and we can go back to our normal routine.....all I have to do is survive. I’m sure he’s brought some wine along, I just hope it’s enough to last two days._

**poipoipoipoipoipoipoipoi**


	4. Row Your Boat

Title: Natural Inclinations  
Chapter IV: Row Your Boat  
Rating: M (slash, est. relationship)  
Pairing: Finch/Reese  
Genre: Romance/Humor/Adventure

 

**poipoipoipoipoipoipoipoi**

 

By the time Reese finished securing the canoe to the HUM-V's roof, the recluse was almost back to his normal self. Well, as normal as he could be considering he was in the middle of a forest, wearing shorts, with no tea vendor in sight.

The op had coaxed him into taking a few sips of warm cola, which Finch had to admit did help soothe his outraged digestive tract even more. He felt a bit chagrined at being the one to put a damper on his partner's activities.

"I so very rarely travel in something that causes it, I forget I'm susceptible to motion sickness."

"It's okay, Finch. Feeling better?"

The billionaire nodded. 

"Let's head out." The happy grin was back on Reese's face; minimizing Harold's guilt considerably.

The beauty of this type of vehicle was that it gave stability and traction while still being a low-profile transport. The billionaire had found a dealer that would customize an original military issue hummer by adding more comfortable seating and interior upgrades, without turning it into a show car. Finch had ordered one for the property, with some additional tweaks of his own to be included, and so was able to get settled in the passenger seat without any assistance.

**poipoipoipoipoipoipoipoi**

 

Once his partner was in the car, Reese slipped it into gear and moved out along the narrow gravel road. The op stole a glance at the older man. Finch seemed to be relaxing...he had his eyes closed and was leaning back into the thickly padded seat. John looked for the lines around eyes and mouth that were the recluse’s tells for pain. Seeing none he exhaled in relief. He felt bad that the flight over had been so hard on Harold.... _and the trip hasn’t even started yet. I hope he doesn’t wind up hating the whole thing._

He took his time traveling the winding three miles back to the lakeside site he’d chosen for them. It was difficult to believe they were actually here, away from the city. It felt almost surreal to have Finch to himself, with no distractions (he crossed his proverbial fingers) for an entire weekend. 

Reese had started getting that twitch between his shoulder blades in the past month or so; his body's way of saying that his senses needed downtime, to be in a space with fewer people and less noise. To do that and with the person he cared about most in the world, meant everything to the ex-CIA agent.

If the op could just get his partner to relax a bit; look around and _breathe_ , he would consider the trip worth it. He put all these worries out of his mind and concentrated on how beautiful the sunlight dappling through the trees looked. Finch did have good taste in vacation properties, he had to admit.

**poipoipoipoipoipoipoipoi**

 

Finch started out of his doze when the Hummer slowed to a stop. The gravel road had ended in a small pull-off and Reese shut down the engine and set the parking brake. He looked over at the recluse and smiled.

"Welcome back. Dramamine knock you out?"

"A bit." Harold yawned, pushing his fingers up under his glasses to rub his eyes. 

"Where are we?"

"End of the line." Reese pointed out the driver's side window. 

"Our campsite is fifty yards that way, over some nice flat grass. We're on the East shore of the lake and there's a graveled area with shallows for wading very close. Right in front of where we'll put the tent up is a great access point for the canoe."

Harold got out of the car and stood by the tailgate, taking in the ancient hemlock trees that crowded the road. It was cooler here than it would have been in the city at this time of day. Reflexively, he looked down at his wrist; frowning as he remembered Reese insisting he leave his watch at the library. 

"It's around ten, in case you're wondering."

"That's all?" the recluse's tone reflected honest surprise. "It seems much later."

He shot a look at his partner "Perhaps that's because I've been up since six a.m." A small smile pulled at his mouth; widening as Reese laughed, getting the joke. The ex-agent popped the tailgate and began pulling gear out of the back of the Hummer. He lifted the small pack he'd brought with them, holding it out to Finch.

"Can you manage this alright?"

Harold took it in his hands, considering it. "It weighs a bit more than Leila did, minus the squirming. Even so, I should be fine." 

He stopped talking, staring into the middle distance as he remembered the six-month old who'd started out as the most problematic number they'd had to date and in the end had worked her way into both men's hearts. He missed her still. 

Finch hadn't realized that John had moved until he felt the op's hands on his shoulders. "It's okay, Harold. I miss her too."

The billionaire allowed his friend to take the pack from his unresponsive hands and pull him into an embrace. For a long moment they stood there, grieving in silence and Finch wished again that their lives had been different. The thought of watching Leila grow up with them; of teaching her so many things; _of her being family_ , filled him with a longing for something that he‘d never given much thought to before. Finch tried to shake himself out of this melancholy frame of mind.

"I'm spoiling your trip John, I'm sorry."

" _Our trip_ , Harold and don't be. I wish she could have stayed too." Reese hugged the recluse once more and released him. "Her teen years would have killed us though." He laughed, attempting to lighten the mood.

Finch returned his smile. "If you didn't frighten potential suitors away with your assault rifle, then I would by running background checks on them."

John helped Harold shoulder the daypack and the billionaire offered to carry in the tent as well, once he saw how small the bag was. 

"That's it? Are you sure both of us will fit inside?"

"Light-weight fabric and folding poles with shock-cord inserts. One third the weight, with twice as much space as old tents. This will hold six men packed like sardines or two men and lots of gear very comfortably."

"Then lead on by all means." Finch indicated the trail head with his chin. "I can't wait to see the rabbit you pull out of this hat."

**poipoipoipoipoipoipoipoi**

 

The tent practically set up itself and Finch was impressed when he stepped inside and saw how much space there was within the dome. He emerged and pursed his lips. 

"I suppose the sleeping bags will go right on the floor?" 

Reese could see the resignation in his partner's eyes.

"Why don't you rest by the lake?" He steered Finch over to one of the camp chairs he'd placed on the point of land in front of the tent. "I'll get the rest of the gear sorted out and then we'll decide what to do."

Harold nodded and eased himself into the chair. For a collapsible model, it was comfortable enough. He took a deep breath in through his nose, blessing the fact that he'd thought to take his allergy medicine before they left and that it was a twelve-hour time release capsule. That meant he only needed to carry a few additional pills instead of the entire bottle. 

The breeze coming off the water felt good. It was just enough to stir the air without making him feel chilly. The old trees and forest loam gave off a singular smell that the billionaire recalled vaguely from childhood vacations to the mountains….a mixture of foliage, soil and water that as a boy he thought green must smell like; if colors could have scents. He smiled at the whimsical turn his mind had taken and closed his eyes, listening to the sound of birds in the branches overhead.

The noise from what sounded like an over-sized hair dryer pulled Finch from his reverie. Rising from the chair, he approached the tent; wondering first where the power to run any electrical device was coming from and then why John would be worrying about his coiffure while he was supposed to be 'getting back to nature'.

Ever cautious, the recluse peered inside the tent. The sight before him caused his eyes to widen in pleased surprise. His partner, sprawled out on the floor of their shelter, had never looked more desirable to him than at this moment. Finch must have made some sound because the op raised his head and winked at the billionaire.

"I hope you like it because it's all for you."

"I-I don't know what to say...." 

"Why don't you just come over here and give it a try?" Reese's tone was playfully teasing.

That, coupled with what was staring Finch in the face, proved too much temptation for him to resist. Like a man in a trance, the recluse moved to the ex-agent's side and uttering a quiet sigh of satisfaction, lowered himself down into the welcoming embrace.

It was bliss, pure and unadulterated. John was the most thoughtful, caring and devoted companion anyone could wish for. The combination of rigidity and velvety softness was perfection and Finch turned his head to look over his shoulder at the man next to him.

"You are _amazing_." Such a simple statement and yet mere words couldn't begin to express how grateful he was to Reese. 

The op's answering smirk held more than a tinge of self-satisfaction...he knew he'd pleased his partner very much. The billionaire allowed that the younger man's smug expression was more than amply deserved and so made no comment on it.

"Thank you John." He took in a deep breath, feeling for the first time in this venture outside his comfort zone that things just might turn out well.

Reese eased himself down beside Finch, the deluxe air-mattress shifting a bit as he scooted in close to his partner. "I take it the sleeping arrangements meet with your approval?"

"I consider this five star treatment and I do appreciate it very much."

The op nuzzled the side of his face, pressing a kiss on his cheek. The recluse smiled, closing his eyes and letting the sturdy, air-filled chambers support his spine. He was just drifting away when Reese’s lips traced the outline of his ear.

“If you think this is _relaxing_ Finch, then wait until I take you out on the lake.”

Harold’s eyes snapped open. “Lake?” His voice cracked.

“Mmm-hmmm. Let’s go paddling.”

“I-in what?”

“The canoe, of course.” Reese rolled off the air-bed and taking the battery-powered pump with him, jogged back to the Hummer.

_I knew it was too good to last....._

**poipoipoipoipoipoipoipoi**

 

"Are you certain it's safe?"

"For the last time Finch, yes it's safe." Reese held out his hand to his partner. "Now come on. Sit down and I'll paddle us around to the deep end of the lake. The fishing should be great and with luck I'll get something for our dinner."

"And if you don't?"

"Then tonight we'll have roasted vegetable medley with potatoes and tomorrow we'll have fish."

The billionaire humphed, stepping gingerly into the, to his eyes, rickety and wholly inadequate watercraft. His idea of a proper boat meant one with a stateroom and private balcony. _A mimosa wouldn't go amiss either. I wonder if I can find the wine stash this evening?_

"Put this on, Harold."

" _This_ is a life-jacket? There's nothing to it!"

"When's the last time you were on the water, Finch?"

"If you mean in a tippy death-trap like this, then never." He pulled on the PFD and tightened the straps down. "Life jackets are supposed to be orange or yellow and big enough to look like they actually could save your life."

Reese shook his head, using his paddle to push off from the bank. The billionaire held onto the canoe's gunwales as they moved backward away from the safety of dry land. He took a deep breath and tried to relax as Reese had told him to.

John back-paddled to get them out of range from any submerged brush that might catch the bottom of the craft, then propelled the slender boat forward with sure, powerful strokes. 

Finch forgot his fear as he felt the canoe push through the water in response to the op's paddling. He felt proud of his partner's strength, enough to risk turning in his seat to look back at him…marveling at the way his arm and shoulder muscles bunched and rolled beneath the smooth skin.

"Like what you see, Harold?" Reese's warm voice carried over the water to the billionaire, sending tics down his spine. 

"Let us say, I'm beginning to appreciate water sports more."

The op's face split into a wide smile; pleased that his partner was feeling good enough to tease him. He responded by pulling more deeply on the paddle and Finch's quiet "wow" was all the reward he needed to keep up his pace.

The billionaire was enchanted. The canoe skimmed across the surface of the lake like a sleek water bird. The only sound came from the quiet scrape of John’s paddle against the water. He’d never been in a canoe before in his life but he was fast coming to enjoy it. 

They followed the bow of the lake south from their campsite and John eased them into a quiet cove. Finch looked over the side of the boat. The water was fairly clear and very deep, if it’s darkness was anything to go by. He was about to ask if the op was going to try fishing here when a loud _“shhpeeeer-shhpeeeer”_ whistling call sounded overhead.

Both men looked up to see a hawk rise above the trees. It circled low over the lake before heading off out of sight to no doubt find it’s preferred hunting grounds. 

“That was a Red-tailed Hawk! I haven’t seen one in ages....Every time I try to catch a glimpse of the pair nesting close to Central Park, something always pulls me away before I manage to.”

Finch’s voice was positively bubbly as he rambled on about how beautiful the raptor was; offering tidbits on its feeding and nesting habits as well as mentioning that it was a year-round resident in New York State. When he at last took a breath, the recluse realized that the op was grinning at him.

“What’s so amusing Mr. Reese?”

“I’m just surprised, Finch. I didn’t think you were interested in the natural world.”

Given his partner’s reaction, the billionaire felt compelled to explain his unusual response to the sighting. “I’ve always been fascinated by birds of prey, even when I was very young.” Harold sighed, looking off in the direction the hawk had flown. 

“They’re so powerful and strong....graceful.” _All the things that I’m not._ Finch lowered his eyes, as if embarrassed by his confession. 

“I agree.” Reese’s voice was quiet. “Getting to see one with you is special.”

The recluse and the ex-agent’s eyes met and for a long moment they stared at one another, content with where they were as they drifted under the trees lining the lakeshore.

John raised his paddle to push some branches away from his partner’s head when a slender form dropped out of them and landed in the boat. It began writhing about in front of Harold’s boots and the recluse’s frown of confusion shifted into a grimace of horror.

**_“SNAKE!!!”_ **

With total disregard for his damaged hip and spine, Finch jumped to his feet and tried to run away, only to remember too late that he was not on land.

He hit the water like a ton of bricks and immediately went under. The billionaire thrashed his way back to the surface, gasping for breath and heard a loud splash close by. Too concerned with trying to keep from drowning, Finch disregarded it as he flailed about. His glasses had been knocked off when he fell overboard and he couldn’t see a thing. 

_I knew this trip would kill me..._ he thought as he slipped under water again. 

**poipoipoipoipoipoipoipoipoipoi**


	5. Wet N' Wild

Title: Natural Inclinations  
Chapter V: Wet N’ Wild  
Rating: M (slash, est. relationship)  
Pairing: Finch/Reese  
Genre: Romance/Humor/Adventure

NOTE: Thanks again to Mamahub for planting this seed in the dubiously fertile ground of my imagination garden (if I’ve overdone it on the fertilizer then I apologize, lol). Thanks too to everyone who’s read/commented/reviewed this story. I appreciate the feedback and the reception and I’m glad folks are enjoying it. ‘NI’ has been so much fun to write. There’s much more to come and caution: sexy times ahead!

**poipoipoipoipoipoipoipoipoipoi**

 

_Contrary to the cautionary tale he'd spun for Detective Carter after her involvement in John's shooting, Finch did not know how to swim. This, followed by the just as irrelevant thought that he'd no brothers either, flitted across the recluse's mind as he clawed at the water uselessly._

_Strong hands caught him by the collar, dragging him to the surface. Finch coughed as his head broke above the water and he turned, grabbing at the arms that supported him._

_"Harold, calm down! I've got you but you need to lay on your back. Let the jacket bear your weight and I'll tow you in. If you fight me we both could drown!"_

_Those words penetrated the recluse's panic and Finch forced himself to be still. He allowed Reese to roll him over. He felt the flotation device supporting him from underneath, keeping his head above water. The billionaire relaxed as John struck out with a one-handed stroke, towing him in by the strap on the jacket. He was okay…he was going to be okay._

_Only after he was safe on shore did Harold remember the snake._

**poipoipoipoipoipoipoipoipoipoi**

 

**_"Is it dead?Did you kill it?You need to kill it!!"_** The billionaire's eyes were wide with fear as he gibbered nonsensically at Reese.

"Calm down, Harold. No I didn't kill it."

**_"Kill it NOW!Go back to camp and get one of the guns I know you packed and blow the thing to smithereens.If you don't; I swear, aversion to firearms or not, I'll do it myself!!"_**

"Finch, it isn't hurting you." The op replied in a very reasonable tone of voice.

"It's a Water Moccasin, of course it will hurt me!" The recluse snapped.

"There _are_ no Water Moccasins in New York, Finch….gets too cold for them up here in the winter."

"It was a snake…in the water….it _was_ venomous!"

"It _is_ a water snake but they're harmless, Harold." 

The disoriented reptile in question poked it's head over the gunwale, it's tongue flickering in and out repeatedly as the snake tried to find a suitable escape route.

"It's more afraid of you than you are of it."

"I very much doubt that!"

At last, it tumbled into the water, gliding away from them with undulating strokes of its body.

"See, it's gone."

"I can't _see_ anything. My glasses are at the bottom of this lake." Finch groused, shivering on the rock ledge the op had towed him to. He huddled there; cold, miserable and humiliated at his bedraggled appearance. _I look like a drowned rat wrapped in a soggy paper bag._

"I want to go home…. _NOW_!"

Reese sighed. He knew Finch had made a huge effort to accommodate him and the ex-agent felt terrible that halfway through the first day the recluse had been airsick, frightened and dumped from a canoe. In his heart of hearts John had wanted to pull Harold out of his comfort zone; challenge him with what he hoped would be a _good_ experience. That had degenerated into damage control. The op would get them back to camp; the recluse into clean clothes and ply him with tea. He prayed once Finch felt like his old again, he'd be more reasonable.

"Wait here." John removed his boots and socks and stood up, pulling off the wet t-shirt. He shucked his shorts too and turned to Finch.

Harold reached out blindly, seizing Reese's calf in his fingers and refusing to let go. "Where are you going? Don't you dare leave me out here alone. Snakes are like cockroaches, if you see one, there's bound to be more!"

"If you want your glasses back, Finch I'm going to have to dive for them." The op knelt down and gripped his partner's shoulder. "I'm not leaving you. Just stay here in the sun."

Reese brushed Harold's cheek with a kiss. "It's starting to warm up. You could take your clothes off and let them dry."

"Yes….my lolling about on a rock in the wilderness, blind _and_ naked is a wonderful idea. Why don't I smear myself with dead fish too and invite a bear to come and eat me?!"

"I'll be right back. Just sit tight."

Finch's head turned, following the sound of the op's footsteps. He heard Reese take a couple of deep breaths and then the loud splash of him hitting the water. The silence in the wake of his partner's dive was eeire. The billionaire didn't know how long John could hold his breath….that scenario had yet to come up in the course of their work. Harold hoped it never would. The times when he was out of touch with Reese…like now, were hardest for the recluse to bear.

It was one thing to feel fear for himself. Finch could either get out of a situation or he couldn't and that was that. But when John was in danger, unreachable…. _gone_ , it filled him with such a sense of helplessness. Harold had come to depend so much on Reese's calm, steadying presence; first as an employee and later as a friend and the thing he cherished above all others. Without John, the recluse felt like half a man. _Less really, as I'm no longer half of one to begin with._

Finch was just starting to get worried when Reese broke the surface again, gasping for breath. He leaned toward the sound.

"Are you alright John?"

"Fine…it's really deep here. I think I may have seen them though. I saw a flash of something in a clump of weeds. Just need to get my breath back for a minute."

He swam over to the rocks and rested his elbows on the ledge beside Finch's knees. Harold reached down to touch his partner's shoulder.

"Leave them. I don't want anything to happen to you."

"Did you bring a spare pair?"

"No…." Finch sounded genuinely surprised. "I don't know why I didn't think to."

"Then I'll get them. You okay, Harold?"

"Yes….just be careful."

"I will." Reese turned his head and kissed the billionaire's palm, nipping at the pad of flesh around the base of his thumb.

Harold shivered again, but not from the cold.

"Be right back."

John swam back out to his previous position and filling his lungs, dove down. 

_Keeping his eyes open the op found the weed patch he'd spotted before and kicked over to them. THERE....he saw the reflection again and sure enough it was Harold's glasses. He worked them loose and then turned to head back up to the surface._

_Reese exhaled in surprise as he noticed the huge snapping turtle resting on the lake bottom a few feet away. It was massive, with a head easily the size of an orange and looking for all the world like a venerable dinosaur. "It must be at least sixty years old..." he thought, admiring the impressive reptile for a moment. He kicked his way back up through the water, thinking that this was one wildlife encounter he wouldn't share with Finch._

**poipoipoipoipoipoipoipoipoipoi**

 

"First things first..." Reese said, assisting his partner out of the canoe at their campsite. "Let's get you cleaned up. Sit." The op indicated one of the camp chairs.

Finch flopped into it with a loud _'squelch'_ , still shedding water. Reese knelt down in front of him and rested one Harold's feet on his knee. The billionaire, glasses thankfully restored, peered down at the op's bent head as the younger man worked on getting the water-logged bootlaces untied. He felt longing stirring inside him as Reese removed first boots, then his dripping wet hiking socks. The op stood up, draping the socks over a nearby tree branch and turned the recluse's boots upside down to drain.

"Stand up and we'll get those clothes off you."

Finch did so automatically but when Reese began unbuttoning his camp shirt, the older man took a step backwards. "You're going to do that out here?"

"Harold, tell me...who else is around to see?"

The billionaire absorbed this information. Reese was right of course, but Finch's natural modesty rebelled at the idea of walking around naked. The op grunted in exasperation. 

"Fine...does _this_ help?"

John pulled his sleeveless tee over his head and hung it on another branch. Locking eyes with Finch, he propped a foot on the camp chair and slipped out of one of his boots and socks. He smirked as his partner watched him remove the rest of his footgear. The ex-agent rubbed his hands up and down his stomach, fingers tracing small circles over his taut abs (which he chose to flex, enjoying the site of Finch's Adams apple bouncing as the recluse swallowed in response).

“Surely you aren’t....”

Reese quirked an eyebrow at the other man, letting his hands drift down to the waistband of his shorts. He popped the snap and eased the zipper down, feeling the weight of the wet fabric go slack around his hips. John pushed them down over his backside, just to get things started; then let gravity do the rest.

Finch’s eyes followed the progression of the sodden garment as it settled around his partner’s ankles; his gaze tracking back up to fix on John’s pelvis. Harold breathed in....the op was stroking himself through the thin cotton of his boxer briefs. Being soaked in the lake had rendered the gray fabric almost transparent and Finch could clearly see the outline of Reese’s stiffening penis.

The billionaire felt an answering tug in his lower abdomen as the op closed the distance between them. John slid his hand up his shaft and stripped out of his underwear, his penis springing out to bob at half-mast. Harold’s mouth went dry. His partner looked like a living sculpture of Herne...indeed, the recluse half-expected to see antlers sprouting from the grizzled black hair. The sapphire blue eyes were warm, tiny wrinkles forming at their corners as John smiled at him.

_“Join me Harold?”_ Reese’s voice was low and inviting. He reached out again and this time the billionaire didn’t stop him as his shirt was unbuttoned and pushed off his shoulders. Finch’s t-shirt followed and the strong, brown fingers made quick work of his shorts, pulling them and the recluse’s briefs down in one smooth motion. 

The warmth of John’s hands on his waist, steadying him as he stepped out of the wet clothes made the tingling between his legs more intense and Finch’s arousal increased. Without stopping to analyze the situation, Harold leaned in and met Reese half-way; his mouth hungry for the op’s.

Reese’s pleased growl vibrated along Finch’s lips as he kissed the recluse. He could feel the warm solidity of his partner's erection pressing into his hip and he shifted his pelvis; rubbing his penis up against Harold's.

John swallowed the recluse's moan, taking the sound inside of him and returning it in full measure with an exclamation of surprise as he felt Harold’s hands slide up his chest. 

All concerns of indecent exposure forgotten, Finch fingered his partner’s nipples. The billionaire plucked at the tightening buds of flesh, reveling in Reese’s groan of pleasure. He released the op’s lips and traced a trail down John’s neck to his chest to take one of the now tight knots in his mouth.

The ex-agent bucked against Finch as the smaller man suckled him with enthusiasm. He loved it when his partner took a more dominant role in their intimacy. Reese knew that today’s roller-coaster ride of ups and downs had taken their toll on the recluse’s confidence and he gladly ceded control to Harold. In fact, it was quite a turn on for him.

Encouraged by the op’s responses, Finch teased him with teeth and tongue, alternating between both nipples. He caressed Reese’s side, tracing the outline of each muscle group with a featherlight touch. The shivers raised by this flooded the billionaire with a feeling of power. _His hands were causing his partner to feel this way.....HIM...not through money or technology or the manipulation of others for assistance but himself alone. John wanted him, Harold Finch the man...as he was._

“Harold....”

The need in Reese’s voice seared a path straight down to the recluse’s crotch and Finch worked a hand between their stomachs to take both their penises in his grip. Reese gave a deep, shuddering gasp as the billionaire slid his hand up and down the length of their organs, pausing at the tips to stroke first Reese's head and then his own. He released his partner’s nipple and tilted his chin back up, seeking the op’s mouth again. 

John happily obliged him, the movements of his tongue in Finch’s mouth matching those of Harold's fingers. His arms wrapped around the billionaire’s slender torso and he ground his hips against the other man’s. The recluse moaned and pumped them both faster. 

Harold felt the wet slickness of pre-seminal fluid coating his hand and concentrated on his attention on their heads. Reese gasped and jerked his hips. Hot semen spurted on Finch’s belly, pushing him over the edge into his own orgasm. 

They stood there for a moment, foreheads together. Finch lifted a hand to touch his partner’s cheek, opening his eyes in shock when Reese captured his fingers in his mouth, sucking them clean. 

“John....”

Reese kissed him again and Finch tasted both of them. For the millionth time, Harold marveled that this strong, competent soldier had chosen him. This man, who could have anyone, wanted him and he couldn’t hold back the question that he’d so often wondered but never asked before. 

“Why?” The billionaire was ashamed at the crack in his voice.

Reese just held him closer, kissing his forehead and nuzzling the spiky hair. “Why you? Other than the fact that I find you very attractive, because you see me Harold.....Me, John Reese, the man. Not just a tool to do your legwork; not a killing machine, with no heart or soul....but me. You know who am, what I was and you still wanted me.” 

His words took the recluse by surprise and he looked up. John’s blue eyes were warm and reflected the smile he wore. 

“You saved my life Harold, in more ways than I can count.”

“No more than you did mine, John....” Finch felt his cheeks grow warm, but he didn’t look away. “I’d almost left behind my humanity in the wake of trying to help irrelevants.” 

Harold swallowed. “You gave that back to me.”

Reese smiled at the older man, giving him a gentle kiss that expressed his feelings more than any words could. The recluse hugged him then shifted his hips as the rapidly drying semen began to make him itch. 

“Getting irritated?”

“Ah...yes...” Finch grimaced.

“Let’s get rinsed off then.” He pulled back and stretched, feeling his muscles loosen and stole a glance at his partner. The recluse seemed much more relaxed. They made their way to the solar shower Reese had rigged when they set up camp. The dark gray and black water bag had absorbed enough heat to make their wash up pleasantly warm. 

They dried each other off and returned to the tent for fresh clothes. Reese surprised his partner with a pair of Tevas for both of them. As a rule, Finch avoided sandals like the plague but admitted to himself that they were a comfortable alternative to going barefoot until his boots could be worn again. 

“You hungry?” The op asked as they exited the tent.

“Actually, I am.” Harold’s stomach gave a noticeable rumble, as if agreeing with it’s owner.

Both men laughed at the sound. Finch moved to stand on the point, staring out over the water and was entranced by a Great Blue Heron winging in to land on the opposite shore. He heard his partner move up beside him, his shoulder just brushing the billionaire’s.

“So, we can eat before we start packing up?”

“You planned on us being here through the weekend, Mr. Reese. I see no reason to change that....at the moment.” 

Harold kept his eyes fixed on the large wading bird as it moved with slow precision through the shallows; head cocked to one side as it watched for fish. Strong arms embraced the older man from behind and he smiled as he felt John’s chin come to rest on his shoulder. He’d give the trip, if not the canoe, another chance....

**poipoipoipoipoipoipoipoipoipoi**


	6. Twilight n' Taps

Title: Natural Inclinations  
Chapter VI: Twilight and Taps  
Rating: M (slash, est. relationship)  
Pairing: Finch/Reese  
Genre: Romance/Humor/Adventure

 

_Day is done, gone the sun  
From the lakes, from the hills, from the skies  
All is well, safely rest;  
God is nigh._

_-Taps Lyrics: Horace Lorenzo Trim_

 

**poipoipoipoipoipoipoipoipoipoi**

 

Finch eyed the foil packets dubiously as Reese buried them in the ashes around the edge of the fire. The op swore that in about forty minutes they would provide a delicious accompaniment to the men's dinner.

"You were never a Boy Scout Finch?"

The withering look the recluse shot him was answer enough. The op smirked as he stood up, dusting off his hands. 

"I'm going to try my luck fishing off the point. Would you mind watching the fire?"

"I think I can handle that." Finch replied, settling himself into one of the camp chairs. He opened one of the hardcovers he'd brought with him. "I'll do a bit of reading and just relax."

Reese nodded and picking up his rod and tackle case, parked himself on the lakeshore. The billionaire watched him expertly choose and tie a lure onto his line, then cast out towards the centre of the lake. His partner eased back into the other camp chair. Harold could see patience settle over the man like a second skin. _This must be what he did while waiting for an op to begin. At least this time its not the precursor to a dangerous action._

Finch let his eyes wander over the still form a moment more before dropping them down to his book. Within a few minutes he was absorbed into the author's world; only rousing once in awhile to check the fire before submersing himself again in the story. He liked Dickens, when he had the time to devote to the writer's convoluted storylines and intricate characters. 

'Victorian Speak', as he thought of it, was deliciously fun to read and no author of the period captured that sense of playful wordiness like Charles did. Harold was re-reading 'The Life and Adventures of Nicholas Nickleby', one of his favorite Dickens novels. _If English teachers would assign this book instead of 'Tale of Two Cities' to students, then more young people would read his works!_

Finch was just getting to the part where Nicholas trounces Squeers the Yorkshire schoolmaster then flees with Smike to London, when his partner returned carrying a fat smallmouth bass. He started to put his book down, but Reese waved him off. “You’re fine. I’m just going to clean and fillet this guy and we’ll have a great dinner.”

The recluse resumed reading and only realized it was getting dark when he found himself holding the book a few inches from his eyes. He looked up to see Reese sitting opposite him, tending a cast iron skillet on the portable grill surface he’d erected while Harold had been ‘back in time’. The op had a slight smile on his face.

"You should have interrupted me, John...", the rest of his admonition petered out as Reese's smile broadened.

"I could have set a mortar shell off right next to you and you wouldn't have noticed." The ex-agent's voice was full of warm affection. "I've never seen you read before Harold, for enjoyment I mean. You looked so happy."

The older man felt his cheeks grow warm as he replayed the past half-hour in his brain. He visualized what he must have looked like to John; all bare toes and knobby knees, bent over the hardcover. Finch knew his face would have reflected the emotions he'd felt while engrossed in the story; the frowns, smiles and silent 'ah-has' of laughter. 

"I'm sure the word you meant to say was foolish."

Reese shook his head. _"Happy,"_ he repeated, "relaxed. Would you read to me some time?"

To Finch's amazement, the op dropped his eyes back to the skillet; almost in embarrassment as he turned the fillets to brown on their other side. The flush that had started as a result of self-consciousness, deepened into one of pleasure. He'd done debate and speech in high school and had been very good in both the team segments and monologue competition. Part of his preparation for the meets had been reading out loud...to anyone he could get to hold still long enough. Truth be told, he missed it from time to time. 

"If you like, Mr. Reese. For now, may I be of any assistance with supper?"

The op showed him how to roll the foil packets out of the fire with a stick and brush the ashes from them. Harold held out two plates for his partner to slide the fillets on, drizzling a bit of butter sauce over each from the skillet. Reese set the pan off to one side and nodding for Finch to put the op's plate down, unwrapped the first of the foil bundles. 

A steaming baked potato emerged from its aluminum casing and slid onto Finch's tin plate. Reese sliced it open and as smoothly as any magician, produced a small container of sour cream. He prepped his own meal as the billionaire dug into the fish and potato. 

Finch tasted hints of lemon and dill in the fish's sauce; adding just the right amount of flavor to the fresh fish. The ash-roasted potato's heartiness did pair well with the bass and the recluse nodded in approval to his partner.

"This is excellent...I should have you cook more often." Harold gave the op a slight smile.

"I'll do that in our copious spare time, Finch." Reese quipped.

Both men ate in silence...their thoughts following similar tracks as they contemplated their good fortune in having had a full day without a number coming between them. 

John put his plate down and reaching into the pack that held his cooking utensils, removed a bottle of white wine and two glasses. He offered one to the billionaire and Finch was pleased to note that it was glass, not plastic. He held it steady while Reese poured and swirled the pale yellow liquid around the bowl a couple of times. He took an exploratory sip and was rewarded with the taste of one of his favorite Chardonnays. 

Reese poured a glass for himself and they continued their meal. Finch looked up at the burgeoning stars; so many more of them were visible here than in Manhattan. It was odd that, other than knowing the position of almost every security camera in the borough, the recluse rarely spared a glance for the sky as he went about his daily business. Part of it was survival instinct. Only tourists looked up, gawking at the sky scrapers. Doing so made one an easy mark for muggers. To be able to see the blackness of the universe spreading out above him without light pollution interfering was a luxury Harold hadn't realized he'd missed. 

"Feel like some dessert?"

Finch pulled himself back from contemplating the heavens to see his partner's hand extended towards him. He passed his empty plate over and finished the last of his wine. He was comfortably full and couldn't imagine adding anything else to his stomach.

"I'm fine, for now."

"No room even for these?" Reese held up a plastic bag of white, puffy objects.

"Marshmallows?" Harold laughed in disbelief but he took the sharpened stick the op passed to him. "I haven't toasted marshmallows in...." he shrugged, "well, it's been a long time."

"All the more reason to now." John replied reasonably. He pulled his chair over beside his partner's...close enough so that their legs brushed. "Here..." The ex-agent popped open the bag and offered it to the other man.

Finch felt a smile pull at his lips as he speared one of the squishy cylinders and held it out to the fire. Within moments the marshmallow had expanded a bit, turning dark brown before Harold could remove it from the flames. He blew on the scorched sweet and, to John's delight, ate it right off the end of the stick.

The crunchy, smoky taste of sugar filled the recluse's mouth and took him straight back to the last family picnic he truly enjoyed with his parents...he'd been eleven. _That summer had been magical; celebrating the Fourth of July upstate, the fireworks and the happiness....before everything had changed; before his father had-_

Finch pushed the images back into the recesses of his memory, concentrating on how much he was enjoying this simple activity with Reese. He felt the younger man's hand resting on his knee and covered it with his own, lacing his pale fingers through the strong, brown ones. John rubbed his thumb over his partner's and gave the hand a gentle squeeze.

_All that I've done...what I've become, is nothing when compared to what John's given me._ The thought was a sobering one and Finch saw it for the truth it was. Even the time he'd shared with Nathan....who'd been his friend and partner in every sense of the words, hadn't touched him like his association with Reese had. 

_I'm happy_ , Finch realized. _It's been too long since I have been; I'm not about to let it go again easily. For however long this lasts, I'll hold it close._

**poipoipoipoipoipoipoipoipoipoi**

 

NOTES: I thought it would be nice to give the guys a bit of peace and quiet at the end of an eventful first day of camping. But fear not patient readers! There is more strife, mishaps, joys and mindless idiocy in store for our boys. Chapter 7 will be appearing soon and thanks for sticking with me....what a long, strange trip it is becoming!!


	7. Morning Sensations

Title: Natural Inclinations  
Chapter VII: Morning Sensations  
Rating: M (slash, est. relationship)  
Pairing: Finch/Reese  
Genre: Romance/Humor/Adventure

NOTES: Saturday morning is here!

**poipoipoipoipoipoipoipoipoi**

 

Finch was pulled out of slumber by a faint need; one that grew more persistent by the second. Opening his bleary eyes, he realized his bladder was insisting that he get up... _now_! Moving quietly, so as not to disturb the man sleeping at his side, the recluse eased over to the edge of the air mattress and sat up. He located his glasses and footgear at the side of the bed.

"Harold?" John's voice was slurred as the half-conscious op brushed a hand over Finch's arm. "You-kay?"

"I'm fine, just....the call of the wild." The older man replied, strapping on his sandals. He smiled at Reese's grunt of amusement.

"Remember where the latrine is?"

"Yes...go back to sleep. I'm perfectly capable of walking a few yards to the bathroom."

"Mmmm...." His partner rolled over and sighed, slipping back into unconsciousness. Finch looked down at him and smiled again, taking in the tousled black-gray hair and relaxed expression on John's face. It warmed his heart to see the younger man so at ease. Harold slipped off the air mattress and straightened into a standing position. His back and shoulder ached, but no more than usual. 

The billionaire limped to the tent's entrance and then realized he was wearing nothing but a pair of dark blue silk boxer shorts. He picked up a random shirt, pulling it over his head before realizing it was one of Reese's sleeveless tees. Harold debated changing for a brief moment then shook his head, unzipping the tent flap. 

_John's right, there's no-one here to see...and besides..._ Finch picked up a nylon bag and stepped out into the pre-dawn gloom. _It's not even sunrise yet._

Finch let his eyes adjust to the dim light, shivering in the early morning chill. Reese's body heat, coupled with the thin cotton blanket the op had covered them with, had kept the older man comfortably warm all night. He looked out over the lake. Faint tendrils of mist curled up from the surface of the water; the light breeze making them twist and dance like sprites celebrating the arrival of a new day. A Great Horned Owl called from the far shore and the recluse stopped in his tracks, eyes searching the treeline. _There!_

The boxy silhouette of the nocturnal bird was visible against the lightening sky as the owl soared across the lake. The strong wings made almost no sound as it turned north and headed into the Hemlock trees. Harold smiled, as pleased as a four year old being given its favorite treat. _A hawk, an owl...my goodness, what's next?_ He turned his head to look first at the tent, then around their campsite and the clearing.

Although Finch would have been the first to admit that he was a creature of the urban jungle; he acknowledged the beauty around him and found he was glad that the op had cajoled him into making the trip out here. _I could just stand here and watch the sun come up...there's nothing to stop-_

The recluse's contracting bladder put an end to his reverie and he limped to the clump of bushes that his partner had designated as their latrine. Straddling the narrow trench, Finch eased himself out of his shorts and sighed in relief. Thankfully, he was not prone to prostate problems but his body was telling him in no uncertain terms that he should have taken care of this need some time ago.

He cleaned himself with the bio-degradable wet wipes John provided, dropping them down the pit toilet the op had also set up. Harold was just tucking himself in when his digestive system made another demand on him. _I miss indoor plumbing...._

Finch eased himself down on the seat strapped to a bottomless bucket over the pit and waited. _Perhaps I should have brought a book with me._ He resumed contemplating his surroundings, when a faint trail of scent reached him. Harold frowned, it seemed familiar somehow and yet he couldn't quite place....

A rustling in the bushes in front of him caught his attention and a black and white face peered out of the leaves from five feet away. _Oh hell!!_

Literally trapped between a rock and a hard place, Finch froze. Unconcerned, the skunk emerged from the brush and puttered around, sniffing at the trench Harold had just relieved himself in. The scent of another, larger animal marking territory caused the small mammal to snort and its tail raised to half-mast. It lifted its head, nose working as it tried to divine any threat that might be in the vicinity.

Finch's eyes tracked the skunk's rear as it turned towards him. He swallowed hard and tried to refrain from breathing. _Caught with my pants down and facing a fate worse than death._ He couldn't even yell for help. Even a city-boy like Harold knew that startling the animal would not make his situation better.

**_Don't move, don't move, don't move...._** _breathe,breathe_ ** _...don't move...._**

The tent flap being unzipped sounded indecently loud to the recluse, given his current circumstances. He saw his partner emerge from their shelter and look around.

"Harold?"

_NO! John, don't shout!!! Don't scare it, please!!!_ Finch thought as he watched the op start across the clearing, searching for him. His eyes darted from the still unsuspecting mustelid to Reese, willing the other man to pick up on his panic. Seeing the skunk's back still to him, Finch raised his arms and waved them over his head.

Reese caught the movement and his lips twisted into an amused smile.

"What's the matter Finch, you get stuck?" 

_Please for the love of God, **SHUT UP!!!!!**_ Harold's arm movements became frantic signals for John to stop. The ex-agent's steps faltered and Finch sighed in relief as Reese noticed the skunk at last. He lowered his arms and sat as still as he could. All the billionaire could do now was wait....and pray.

**poipoipoipoipoipoipoipoipoi**

 

_When Reese noticed Harold seated on the latrine, he smiled...he’d been worried when his partner had not come back to bed and immediately gone out to look for him. Seeing the other man safe (and where he was supposed to be) relieved the op so much he felt like teasing Finch a bit. Especially when Harold started waving his hands; a bid to keep his dignity intact, John had assumed._

_"What's the matter Finch, you get stuck?"_

_Reese strode across the clearing, his steps faltering as he noticed the ’stop’, ’stop’ gestures Finch was now making. He spotted the skunk, business end pointed towards his partner, at almost the same moment._

**poipoipoipoipoipoipoipoipoi**

 

_Really?!_

John couldn’t believe this....after all that had happened the day before, things did work out and by Friday night, Finch was actually happy (if their activities after turning in for the night were any indication). The op had remained awake for a bit after Harold dropped off. Watching his partner sleep, although he’d never tell Finch so, was one of John’s secret pleasures. The recluse’s expression softened in sleep, making him look younger and for a few stolen hours...at peace. 

Seeing Harold like that at John’s side, one hand resting on the op’s stomach or chest, made Reese all the happier. He knew how hard it was for Finch to trust anyone. The night that Harold had first allowed John to touch him...just _hold_ him after a particularly stressful number, had rocked the op to his core. It had still taken Finch a long time to go from that embrace to kissing John and then at last...more.

None of what had happened in the past twenty-four hours had been Harold’s fault but the man did tend to be a lodestone for the ubiquitous laws of Mr. Murphy. If it had been Carter or Fusco in this situation, Reese would have laughed it off as he tried to scare away the skunk...even taken a small bit of delight if either of the detectives would have gotten sprayed. But with Finch, it was different.... _Harold_ was too important.

"Don't move Harold and stay calm, I'll be right back." 

_Don't move, stay calm...indeed! Those ideas would never have occurred to me, of course._

Finch's thoughts were less than charitable as he watched Reese pop back into the tent. The skunk had picked up the op's scent trail, turning it's nose to face the tent and took a few steps out into the open. When he emerged from their shelter, the animal oriented on the sound of John's footsteps. It stiffened it's posture and gave a quiet snort of warning.

The recluse held his breath, acutely aware that if the skunk discharged its musk he had nowhere to run...and almost no clothing to bear the brunt of it. 

Reese held out his hand and snapped on the flashlight he’d brought with him. The powerful beam from the halogen bulb bathed the skunk in brilliant white light. It snorted again, backing up a few steps. John kept it in the centre of the illuminated area, while at the same time moving to stand off to the skunk’s right. He wet his lips and a piercing whistle echoed over the field.

The high pitched sound, coupled with the blinding light was too much for the skunk and it dove back into the brush, its stumpy legs beating a hasty retreat. Reese noisily approached the spot where it had been, then stopped to listen. The sound of rustling grew fainter as the mustelid went off in search of better foraging grounds.

Reese switched off the flashlight and turned to see his partner adjusting his shorts. John’s lips twisted into a smirk. “Helluva way to wake up, huh Finch?”

The billionaire made no comment and started to limp past the younger man with as much dignity as he could muster. Reese touched his shoulder and that small point of contact stopped Finch in his tracks. Even in the pre-dawn light John could see the spots of dark color high on his partner’s cheeks. Finch’s breathing was heavy and he looked anywhere but at Reese.

“Hey, you alright?”

Finch cleared his throat, flicking his eyes to the other man’s before looking away again. “I’m fine, Mr. Reese...thank you for your assistance.” He started to move on when John’s arms wrapped around his slender frame, hugging him from behind. Warm lips touched his ear.

“Remember the first time you caught _me_ with my pants down?”

Finch felt a smile tug at his mouth. He recalled accidentally surprising his op in the library early on in their association. Harold had just arrived that morning with an urgent need to relieve himself. He limped into the bathroom; snapping on the light to find Reese, clad only in his boxer briefs which were down around his ankles, looking up at him with wide eyes from the toilet. 

The strong arms held Finch closer and Harold relaxed back against his partner’s chest. “Vividly...it’s the only time I’ve seen you move with something less than your typical grace; barring injuries of course.” 

John’s rumble of mirth was a welcome sound to his ear and Finch felt Reese’s smile as they each remembered the op trying to simultaneously stand and pull up his shorts. John had wound up sprawling on his naked backside in the shower stall. He’d glared at his employer for a full thirty seconds before both of them had burst into laughter.

"Well, in your defense, you _did_ apologize and had a spare bedroom made up for me to use when I needed to. In _my_ defence, it was a long stakeout and the library was closer than my hotel."

A whiff of scent made Harold cough and he looked down at his shirt. “I believe our visitor left a bit of a souvenir on your garment Mr. Reese.” 

John stepped back with a grimace. "Looks like that one will have to be retired. I'd suggest you have a quick wash off but it will take a couple of hours for the water to heat up."

Finch shrugged, "It won't be the first cold shower I've endured." Realizing the implication of his words, the recluse blushed again.

Reese's smirk widened into a full-blown smile. "At least I'm not the cause of this one..." He motioned to the older man and Finch pulled the malodorous undershirt over his head and passed it to his partner. Reese headed back towards the tent. "Go get showered off, I'm going to put this in with our garbage."

"I need-"

"I'll bring soap and a towel with me."

Finch nodded and moved off towards the solar shower. Keeping his sandals on for traction on the slippery nylon groundcloth, Harold removed his shorts and hung them over a nearby branch. He found the small gap in the main trunk of the tree he used yesterday and perched his glasses there again. 

Sucking in a preparatory breath, he grasped the hand-held shower head and opened the valve of the water storage bag. _This IS cold!_ Finch made an involuntary noise as the freezing water sluiced over his torso. He blew out several times and tried to relax his muscles to acclimate to its temperature. Harold hosed down his legs, back and even soaked his hair. Feeling for the valve, he stopped the water flow and re-attached the shower head to its hook.

"Here you go." Reese's voice came from behind him and Finch held up a hand to collect his soap and washcloth. When nothing was handed over he called back over his shoulder.

"Is everything alright?"

"Just admiring the view." The possessive pride in the op's low voice sent a flood of warmth through Finch's body. 

The billionaire felt Reese's hand skate across his shoulders, rubbing the short hairs at the nape of his neck. Harold shivered...more from anticipation than cold.

"Want some help with your cleanup?"

_"Please..."_ Finch's whisper was filled with longing. 

His partner reached around him and snagging the showerhead, doused the washrag. Reese lathered the soft cloth and placed the bar off to one side of the tarp. With infinite care, John soaped the recluse's shoulders; working his way down Finch's right arm to his fingertips and back. He did the same to Harold's left arm, paying close attention to both armpits. 

Finch felt himself relaxing under the gentle touch of Reese's hands. They seldom got the chance to shower together and Harold relished every moment of the impromptu bath. John added more soap to the washcloth and massaged the older man's back and hips. He cupped one of Finch's cheeks with a free hand as he washed the opposite thigh.

Harold grunted when his partner squeezed him, kneading his gluteus muscles. 

“Mr. Reese...”, Finch tried to imbue his tone with warning but he was enjoying the massage too much for it to have any real effect.

John switched sides (and hands) and worked on the billionaire’s opposite thigh. He knelt down behind Harold and washed his knees and calves. Slipping one hand up Finch’s right thigh, John tapped him just above the scar on his hip.

“Hand me the shower-head and turn the water on.”

Harold did so and sucked in another breath as the op stood up and began rinsing him down. He reached around Finch to turn the water off and then stepped in front of the other man. John pressed a kiss against his partner’s cheek, breathing into his neck to help warm the recluse’s cold skin.

Lathering the washcloth again, Reese took his time washing Finch’s chest, tracing circles over his nipples and reveling in the quiet sounds they elicited from Harold. John moved on to Finch’s stomach and skated his hand down to wrap his penis in the soapy cloth. 

_“John....”_

Harold’s murmur had barely left his mouth when the ex-agent’s lips claimed his. Finch gripped Reese’s shoulders to keep himself upright as John’s terrycloth covered hand began to work him with slow, even strokes. He leaned into the kiss, his tongue darting out to tease Reese’s lips which opened to him at once. Harold was so involved with exploring his partner’s mouth that he was caught unawares by the shock of cold water on his groin.

_“SHIT!”_ Finch broke off the kiss and pushed back from the intrusive spray moving over his crotch. “What the _hell_ , John?!” His unfocused eyes glared at the younger man who was moving the water stream over his chest and stomach to rinse away the soap.

“I don’t want you getting irritated, Finch.”

“Too late for that!”

“Your _skin_ , I mean.” 

Even though he couldn’t read Reese’s expression, Harold could hear the hint of laughter in his voice. He _humphed_ in irritation. “You could have warned me.”

“I can make it up to you or I can wash your hair...which would you prefer?” John’s voice had dropped down into what Harold had termed his _'I can make your toes curl'_ range. “I don’t know if you _can_ make that up to me, Mr. Reese.”

John dropped to his knees and kissed his partner’s inner thigh. “Will you let me try, Harold?” He moved his mouth over the recluse’s skin, lips playing with the brown hair that coated Finch’s legs.

“I....I believe in giving people second chances...”

Reese stopped and looked up at the man who’d given him the ultimate second chance...the opportunity to _live_ again; to be worthwhile again and felt an unaccustomed dampness sting his eyes. 

“I know you do Harold.” The love in John’s tone made Finch’s heart contract and he ran his fingers through the op’s hair, cupping his face and smiling as Reese nuzzled his palm, kissing each fingertip.

“Then I’ll let you make it up to me.” He felt John’s smile for an instant before the op turned his attention back to his partner’s crotch. 

Reese’s breath was warm as he exhaled against Finch’s shaft. Harold’s breath caught in his chest as he felt the soft puffs of air slide over his penis and then down to his scrotum. He felt an answering warmth in the pit of his belly, his abdominal muscles twitching in a sympathetic response to the stimulus in his groin. He whimpered when John began kissing his balls, lavishing attention to his entire scrotum and then the base of his cock.

_“John...please...”_

Reese took his time, sliding his mouth up and down the ever-stiffening length of his partner’s penis. He hummed his pleasure as he felt Harold twitch against his lips; felt the long, sensitive fingers tangle themselves in his hair. Finch’s other hand clutched his shoulder as John slipped his mouth over the tip of his penis.

_“Oh God,”_

Finch screwed his eyes closed as he felt the tip of John’s tongue slip inside his foreskin to lick his head. It was as if a live wire had touched his spine, sending tics of pleasure down his hips; making him buck forwards. Reese suckled the increasingly sensitive glans, humming again as he felt the swelling head push out of its covering. He pressed his tongue to the knot of flesh underneath and reveled in the strangled cry that pushed past Finch’s clenched teeth.

John kneaded Harold’s scrotum with one hand and worked the fingers of his other between the billionaire’s legs, spreading his cheeks and finding the tight ring of muscle. Finch cried out again as Reese massaged his anus, teasing it until he could slip a finger inside; stroking the hot tightness that closed around his digit.

Harold could hear that he was babbling but couldn’t make out the words. His sphere of awareness contracted down to the incredible sensations of John taking his full length as he fucked his partner’s mouth. Reese’s finger brushed his prostate and Finch gasped as it tipped him over the edge. John eagerly swallowed as he spilled himself down the op’s throat. He jerked once, twice and then bent over on suddenly weak legs. 

His partner removed his finger and took his time cleaning up Finch’s softening member with his tongue. Gripping his waist to help steady the other man, Reese rose up to stand on his knees; touching his forehead to Harold’s. He felt the recluse’s sweat mingling with his own and smiled. _This is what_ good _is. This is what I’ve wanted to find my entire life. To have a connection to someone this special._

“John...John...” the throaty whisper was infused with reverence.

Reese stood up, wrapping Finch in his arms; pleased to note that the other man’s skin was now warm. 

“Well?”

“Apology accepted.”

**poipoipoipoipoipoipoipoipoipoi**

 

NOTES: Sorry this update took a bit longer to get out. I had an interesting week at work.

Hope this chapter was a fun one and there will be much more to come!


	8. Down By The Riverside....

Title: Natural Inclinations  
Chapter VIII: Down By The Riverside  
Rating: M (potential tomfoolery and sexy times ahead)  
Pairing: Reese/Finch (established relationship)  
Word Count: 2880

NOTES: Thank you one and all for being patient with my lag time in updating this story. Now that 'Behind Block Walls' is essentially finished (except for a tiny wrap up and an epilogue to come later on), I can get back on track with this and my other stories. 

To re-cap: it is Saturday morning, the evil skunk has been banished, shower hi-jinx have taken place and our boys are ready for a new day in the wilderness....or are they?!

**poipoipoipoipoipoipoipoipoipoi**

 

Dressed in clean clothes and his now dry boots, Finch was more than ready to share breakfast with Reese and enjoy the sun climbing over the lake. Not to be outdone by the previous evening's meal; the op had returned from their vehicle with a parcel containing savory cream cheese spread; bagels and what appeared to be a quart-size zip bag of mixed dried fruit. His daypack hung over one shoulder and when the billionaire asked what was inside, John’s only reply was a quiet “wait and see.”

Harold accepted half a bagel and a steaming mug of his favorite tea from his partner. He took a bite of the roll and closed his eyes, relishing the salty-smoky flavor of the salmon as it mixed with the richness of the cream cheese. Reese had added chopped onions and fresh dill to the spread; all of which combined to make a very satisfying start to the day. 

The ex-agent watched the older man out of the corner of his eye as he consumed the bagel. He offered Harold a second half and was happy when the other took it with enthusiasm. Finch often forgot to eat when they were working a number. Even when he did remember; the recluse seldom consumed very much. John had hoped that being outdoors and more active than normal would stimulate Harold’s appetite. 

Reese made his coffee, pouring the remainder of the hot water into the bag of dried fruit and setting it aside for the moment. He moved next to his partner and the two of them ate in silence as the morning came to life around them.

Finch washed down the last bite of the bagel with his remaining tea. He leaned back into the camp chair and closed his eyes. Although he wasn’t sleepy, the recluse felt relaxed and comfortably full. Harold was happy to just sit and listen to the wind pushing through the trees and the songbirds waking up to start another day of defending their territories from interlopers. 

"Here..."

Finch opened his eyes to see Reese holding a bowl out to him. The recluse took it, the heat of its contents making his fingers tingle. "What's this?"

"Extra energy for today. Try it..."

Harold spooned up a portion of the strange looking concoction and took a taste. The intense, tart flavors of the reconstituted fruit played off the sweetness of the pound cake smothered in it. Finch found himself digging into the confection with gusto; his appetite returning with a vengeance.

The op downed his own serving; smiling at the sight of Finch with a smudge of berry juice on his cheek.

**poipoipoipoipoipoipoipoipoipoi**

　

 

Harold powered off his laptop with a relieved sigh. Over twenty-four hours had passed without a new number coming up. If Finch were inclined to superstition, he might think the fates were conspiring to make this time away with John possible.

_Of course if that were true I wouldn't have gotten airsick, tangoed with a snake or had an early morning tête-à-tête with that skunk. I'll put it down to the city behaving itself for once...and be grateful._

Finch stepped back out into the clearing. The sun's rays felt pleasantly warm on his back and to his surprise became aware of a sense of edginess stealing over him. Not from anxiety but just the simple desire to be moving. Such a sensation was foreign to the recluse. 

 

Harold had always been content to stay put, to monitor, to watch. He knew his strengths lay in research and dissemination of information to his op; rather than in legwork. For Finch to be _restless_ was an entirely new situation...but what to do about it? He turned to see his partner returning from their vehicle, having stowed away their breakfast things. 

With the solemnity of a king issuing a decree, the recluse caught the younger man's eye. 

"Mr. Reese....I think we should go for a walk."

**poipoipoipoipoipoipoipoipoipoi**

　

Harold endured the necessity of John applying bug repellent to his face and neck; relieved that the op had found an unscented brand. He would much rather feel the oily liquid on his skin than be eaten alive by a horde of mosquitoes. Reese assisted him with his daypack, making sure the shoulder straps fit comfortably.

Picking up the bag that he’d brought from the car earlier, Reese turned an inquiring look on Finch.

“I have a spot in mind, if you don’t mind me leading. The topo maps show a decent sized stream about half a mile north of here. It should be an easy walk.”

The filling breakfast had Harold feeling more exuberant that usual and he nodded, smiling at the younger man’s happy grin. Reese reached around the side of the tent and produced two sticks. He brought them over so Finch could examine them.

“I know you don’t like to use a cane...but almost everyone carries a hiking staff when they’re on the trail. It’s not just for balance; even what looks like an easy trek on the map might have a couple of rough patches.” 

He held out the shorter stick and Finch took it in his hands; enjoying the silky smoothness of the polished wood and noting the padded, leather-wrapped grip at the top. A loop of braided suede was attached to the very end and fit his wrist comfortably when he slipped his hand through it.

“I had it made to your specifications Harold. It should be even with your shoulder and just wide enough for an easy grip.”

Finch tried it and found that although it supported his weight nicely, the wood had a definite springiness to it. It almost boosted him into his next step, the stick giving just a touch with each stride.

“It feels fine John, thank you.”

“It’s made out of hickory. As long as we store it in a place that isn’t too dry, it'll keep that flex for years.” Reese picked up his own staff and nodded towards the path leading away from their campsite.

“Ready to head out?”

“Let’s go.” Finch replied, surprised at his own eagerness.

**poipoipoipoipoipoipoipoipoipoi**

 

The op had been right. There were three spots where, although the trail was level, the footing was very rocky. Finch made do quite well with his stick. Reese watched with pride as his partner negotiated the uncertain terrain with moderate ease. 

They stopped several times to take in their surroundings (and let Finch catch his breath). 

"Well, this certainly isn't what I thought it would be." Finch remarked, leaning against a convenient boulder and taking a sip from his water bottle.

"How so?" Reese sat down next to him on the edge of the trail.

"I always assumed going hiking meant covering as much ground as possible in the shortest amount of time. I wouldn't have been up for that...even before my injuries."

The op's quiet chuckle floated up to his ears and Harold directed an inquiring glance at his partner. "What's so amusing?"

"I've always felt 'power hiking' was for people that don't really like the woods. They want to prove how strong they are or how good their endurance is. They don't take the time to observe their surroundings." Reese pointed to the opposite side of the trail. 

About five yards up from where they were resting, a box turtle was making its ponderous way across the grassy track. It's bright red eyes were easily visible against the mottled brown and yellow markings on its head. The sturdy, column-like legs moved the bulky reptile's shell along in a steady, albeit slow gait.

Finch laughed, imagining that he could see a look of determination on the turtle's features. 

"If you have the patience to be still and just... _watch_ ; you'll be amazed at what you can see in the forest." John smiled as he felt Harold's hand settle on his shoulder. 

"So many people never take the time to do so. I used to spend hours sitting in the woods behind my house when I was a kid." 

"I've done the same thing in Central Park many times....only with people." Finch replied. "It's so easy to pretend to be so absorbed in a book that others forget you're there...never notice that you're watching them."

Reese laughed again. "Animals are much more interesting to me though."

The op paused, his eyes staring into the middle distance as he thought back on the time he spent living on the streets. He'd been unobserved, _invisible_ , to most of the city's inhabitants then. He'd been able to watch how poorly his fellow man treated one another. A gentle squeeze on his shoulder pulled him back to the present. He saw his partner looking down at him; the small, shy smile John had come to treasure from the recluse quirking Harold's lips.

"Thank you for sharing this with me, John." 

"There'll be more to see, I hope." Reese remarked as he stood up, brushing debris off his shorts. "Ready to move on?"

Finch noted that the box turtle had succeeded in crossing the trail. He eased himself up off the rock and took a firm grasp on his hiking stick. "Yes...I think I hear water up ahead."

**poipoipoipoipoipoipoipoipoipoi**

　

Harold's ears were proven right as they stepped out of a laurel thicket and onto an outcropping of rock along a stream's edge. The sounds he'd heard were from the cascading of water over a natural stair-stepping of rocks down into a deep pool. The stream narrowed at the lower end of the pool, winding it's way further down through the woods. 

By now the sun was overhead and the brilliant yellow light had warmed the flat surface of the rocks nicely. A pocket of shade provided a cool contrast on their side of the stream. Finch inhaled; taking in the scents of water, earth and the lush plant life that surrounded them. A gentle breeze coming off the falls slid over his skin, evaporating the sweat he'd worked up during their walk.

“This is beautiful!” Harold turned to see that John had already shucked his boots and socks and was in the process of removing his shirt.

“What are you doing?”

“Going swimming, Harold.” The op flashed him a cheeky grin. “I can’t very well do that in my clothes.”

Reese continued stripping off until he stood naked at the water’s edge. The sunlight highlighted the silver in his hair and mellowed his all-over tan with a golden hue. Finch watched transfixed as John stretched....each well-defined muscle group clearly visible under his toned skin. Harold felt his throat contract as his eyes wandered over the assortment of scars on his partner’s otherwise perfect body.

_So many injuries...so many trials survived. I’m very fortunate that he is alive and here with me._

 

He started to speak when Reese dove into the pool, surfacing almost at once to suck in a great gulp of air. 

“God, that’s cold!” 

The op laughed, forcing himself to take deep breaths and acclimate to the temperature change. He flipped himself over, legs kicking strongly as he back-stroked to the opposite end of the pool. 

Harold left his pack next to John’s discarded belongings and found a moderately comfortable rock from which to watch the younger man’s antics. Finch’s eyes were drawn to the dark patch between his partner’s thighs and the sight of his penis just peeking out from it’s nest of water-slicked hair. The cold had a diminishing effect on John’s physical appearance but Harold knew that was only temporary.

Reese swam back over to the recluse’s side of the stream and propped his elbows up on the rock ledge. “Want to join me?”

Finch shook his head, smiling to soften his refusal. “I don’t deal with the cold very well, as you know Mr. Reese.”

“How about just your feet? They must be tired from the walk.”

Now that the op had mentioned it, Harold felt his insteps begin to ache and his feet were sweaty inside the heavy boots. John could see his partner considering it and he stretched a hand out to the other man.

“Sit down on the edge here....I’ll help you with your shoes.” 

“Alright....” Finch limped over and with a supportive hand from Reese, settled himself down on the rocks. John undid the laces on his boots for him and slipped each one off, tucking the billionaire’s socks inside one of them before moving them back from the water.

With great care John lowered Finch’s left foot into the pool. Harold gasped as the cold numbed his toes for a moment, then sighed as the current soothed the throbbing of his arch. Reese did the same with his other foot. The billionaire closed his eyes, enjoying the feel of the water on his lower limbs.

Warm fingers closed around Harold's left ankle, supporting the foot while Reese's other hand began massaging its sole. Finch grunted with pleasure. John's foot-rubs were infrequent at best, mostly due to their uncertain workloads and not to be taken for granted. The strong hands that were so adept at picking locks and disabling opponents were also skilled at soothing pain. 

Finch rested his palms on the rock, supporting his upper body as he leaned back a bit. His eyes closed and he let his head loll forward as much as it was capable of. John's thumbs worked their way across his right instep, pressing into the ball of his foot and along the outside ridge. 

"Mmmmmm...."

Reese gave Harold's right foot the same attention before letting both appendages dangle in the water. The op slipped closer to the rock ledge. Placing his hands on the recluse's knees, he gave a gentle push outwards; positioning Harold’s thighs far enough apart that he could settle himself between them. He draped his arms over Finch's legs, settling his hands behind the older man's back.

“Better?” he asked, leaning in to nuzzle Harold’s stomach through his camp shirt.

“Very much so.” Finch stroked the back of John’s head, dragging his fingers over Reese’s scalp and smiling as the op hummed his pleasure. Harold realized the younger man had unbuttoned his shirt with his teeth when he felt Reese's lips on his skin. 

“John....mmmmph” 

The recluse closed his eyes and gave himself up to the sensations of Reese’s tongue laving his navel. John had been more demonstrative in the past day of camping than he had for weeks back in the city. Harold was just conscious of his shirt being pushed off his shoulders and cast aside. When he felt the op’s hands pop the button on his shorts he opened his eyes again.

“Mr. Reese.”

“Come in with me Harold.”

“I can’t swim John, you know that.”

Reese slid his hands underneath Finch’s buttocks. “Let me help you.”

Before he could protest, Harold felt himself being lifted and stripped of his shorts and boxers. All at once he was sitting bare-assed on the sun warmed rock. He felt an absurd urge to cover himself but John had placed Finch's hands on his broad shoulders and clasping the recluse around his waist, lowered the older man into the water.

Finch yipped as the cold took him by surprise, tightening his grip on Reese. John removed his partner's glasses, placing them carefully on top of his clothing.

“Relax....I’ve got you, Harold.... _trust me_.”

"I do..." the recluse gasped as his body tried to acclimate to the water's temperature. "I just know...I can't stay in long."

Reese lifted Finch’s hands and turned so that his back was to his partner; settling them once again on his shoulders. “Hold onto me and I’ll give you a ride.”

Finch let his body stretch out, feeling the water buoy him up to the surface. John began to swim, pushing through the current with sure strokes. Harold marveled at the sensation of floating, his normally awkward body moving with a newfound grace. With the pressure on his spine and pelvic girdle relieved, his pain level was almost non-existent. The recluse relaxed even further, enjoying the sensations of moving without any effort on his part.

John circled the pool, ending up in front of the waterfall. He treaded water for a moment as he observed the layout of the falls and rock face before him. “Wrap your arms around my neck, Finch. When I tell you to, take a deep breath and hold it.”

Harold did as requested. “What are you planning?”

“We’re going behind the falls.”

“Wait- _what_?”

"Deep breath Finch!" The op warned. Harold felt him surge upwards and then flip. 

Finch gulped air just in time as they plunged beneath the surface of the water.

 

**poipoipoipoipoipoipoipoipoipoi**

NOTES: Sorry to do that to all of you but there will be more to come very soon!


	9. Hunky, Hunky Burnin' Love

Title: Natural Inclinations  
Chapter IX: Hunky, Hunky, Burnin' Love  
Rating: M (sex and potential tomfoolery ahead)  
Pairing: Reese/Finch (established relationship)  
Word Count: 3090

NOTES: Re-cap, it's Saturday afternoon and the boys are enjoying a swim in a pristine woodland stream......

**poipoipoipoipoipoipoipoipoi**

 

_John circled the pool, ending up in front of the falls. He treaded water for a moment as he observed the layout of the rock face before him. “Wrap your arms around my neck, Finch. When I tell you to, take a deep breath and hold it.”_

_Harold did as requested. “What are you planning?”_

_“We’re going behind the falls.”_

_“Wait-what?”_

_"Deep breath Finch!" The op warned. Harold felt him surge upwards and then flip._

_Finch gulped air just in time as they plunged beneath the surface of the water._

**poipoipoipoipoipoipoipoipoi**

 

Harold felt the cold heaviness close over his head as the op dove straight down. He relaxed his body, trying to keep as calm as possible to conserve the oxygen in his system. Reese's powerful legs kicked, propelling them forward under the cascade. Finch felt the pounding of the current across his shoulders and back as his partner navigated the cataract with ease. 

Just as his lungs were burning with the need to exhale, the recluse felt his head break the surface again and he gasped; sucking in huge breaths to calm his oxygen starved system. He risked letting go of Reese's shoulder long enough to wipe water out of his eyes and saw the blurry, shifting outline of light directly in front of him.

"Is that..."

Harold felt rather than heard John's rumble of amusement. "That's the waterfall." The op turned so that he and his partner were face to face, kissing the older man's cheek and holding him close to keep him warm. "You did great Harold. Any problems?"

"A bit short of breath but otherwise unharmed, Mr. Reese." 

They both turned towards the noisy wall of water. Although Finch couldn't see it clearly, he made out the play of light over the kinetic liquid. 

"It's beautiful," John remarked. "It looks like sunshine through molten glass. The illumination breaks in different places each moment."

The billionaire gave a quiet chuckle and rubbed the side of his face against his partner's. "I'm impressed John, that was quite poetic."

"You're not the only literary-minded one in this relationship, Finch."

Harold's breath caught. Although he and Reese had been intimate for nearly three months now, neither had referred to their understanding as a 'relationship'. John because he knew that it was likely they would not get to grow old together. Finch because he feared to name it as such would be to chance losing it. What he shared with his friend and partner had become precious to him so quickly. Sometimes the intensity of his attachment frightened the very private man.

Feeling the slender frame stiffen at his words, Reese hastened to reassure the older man. Somehow the sheltering darkness of the rocks enabled him to breach their unspoken agreement. He leaned in to breathe in Finch's ear, holding him even closer. "I mean it...you've become a part of me, more than I could have ever hoped for. I love you Harold."

"I love you too John." A tiny part of him wished they could hide here forever...wanting to keep Reese safe from all harm. Finch shivered, the chill washing over him having just as much to do with unknown fears as the frigid water.

"Getting cold?"

"A bit."

"We'll go back now. At least we won't have to dive again."

"Then why did we the first time?"

The ex-agent grinned at the hint of exasperation in Finch's voice. "Because I wasn't sure how much clearance we'd have on the sides or behind the falls. I had to navigate the rocks underwater to be sure."

Reese pointed to the left side of the cascade. "Now I know that we can go through that gap there and be just fine. Hang on." He turned again, letting Finch steady his grip and then swam them back out into the pool.

John helped Harold out of the water and toweled the older man down before drying himself. He pulled two larger bath sheets out of his pack and spread them on the flat rock, piling their clothing beside Harold. 

Finch settled himself on one of them, resting his head and shoulders against both the daypacks for support. The sunshine began to warm his skin, evaporating the last of the moisture clinging to it. He exhaled in contentment, closing his eyes and drowsing.

"You look like a very happy gecko."

The recluse merely grunted in reply, listening to the sounds of his partner stretching out next to him. Harold felt John's fingers capture his and the soft pressure of the op's lips on his knuckles. Finch smiled, starting to drift off.

"Hey..." Reese tickled him in the ribs, causing the smaller man to shiver.

"Stop that!" Harold tried to block his partner's hands with his own. "What is it?"

"If you fall asleep without taking precautions, you'll burn to a crisp, Finch."

The older man opened his eyes, ruefully considering his very white skin. As much as he loathed the thick cream, Harold realized that applying it was a necessity. His glance flicked to the bronzed god at his side and he sighed. "You're right, Mr. Reese." 

"Fortunately, I came prepared." John rummaged in his pack, pulling out a couple of tubes. He leaned in and kissed Finch's breastbone. "All you have to do Harold, is lie back and relax."

The recluse took in Reese's possessive grin and swallowed...he had the feeling his partner had more than sunburn prevention in mind. _And there's no way I would turn down an offer like that._ Harold smiled in response and lay down again, closing his eyes once more and did as John asked.

Finch hissed, abdominal muscles clenching as a drizzle of cold lotion pattered onto his stomach. His partner's warm hands caressed Harold's belly, spreading the sunscreen over his torso. The older man sighed happily as the strong fingers traced soothing patterns over his skin, working the cream in well. Reese took his time, moving down each of Finch's arms, making sure every inch of them was covered before returning to work on the recluse's chest.

Harold bit his lip as John's hands brushed his nipples; thumbs flicking over the dark pink areoles. Reese’s fingers tickled the tightening buds, trapping them in a teasing grip. Finch whimpered, trying to push against the op’s hands; silently asking for more.

“You like this?”

“Mmm-hmmm...”

“You’re supposed to be relaxing...I don’t want you to get too worked up.”

John’s touch abruptly halted and Finch started to protest when he felt the op’s hands on his right thigh; more of the cool sunscreen being massaged into his leg. Reese stroked and fondled Harold’s shank, caressing down his calf his ankle. Reese repeated his actions with the other limb and Finch could hear him wiping his hands on a towel.

Between his partner’s wonderful attentions and the warm sun, Harold was all but drowsing; relaxed and boneless with contentment. When John repositioned his legs and slipped a hand beneath his hips to help lift him up, Finch eagerly complied. Another towel was placed on top of that one, raising his pelvis several inches. Harold thought he might know what his partner had planned and moaned with pleasure when he felt Reese’s well-lubed finger brush his opening.

John teased the warm ring of muscles; working his partner with sure, gentle strokes to relax his anus. He took his time, watching Harold's face and smiling at his partner's reactions. To see the normally tense and buttoned-down man so open and willing to receive his touch was a potent stimulus to Reese. 

_The first time he found out how much Finch enjoyed finger-play had been a surprise. John thought he would have to coax the body shy man into such activities. Harold had in fact turned into a martinet; directing the op with authority on what he preferred. John had been a more than willing pupil._

_And now I'm reaping the benefits of that instruction..._ Reese thought as Harold squirmed at the sensual massage. John added more lubricant to his finger, slipping just the tip inside. The tight heat of his partner always amazed him; leading to thoughts of how pleasantly constricting the contact would be on another part of John's anatomy.

The op pushed that picture aside, concentrating on Finch's pleasure. He moved his fingertip in lazy strokes, working the gradually relaxing muscles and reveling in the older man's quiet cries of need. He kissed the hairy knee draped over his leg.

"You've put up with a lot this weekend Harold, I know. Now I want to show you how happy I am that you decided to take this trip with me." 

Reese slid his finger in up to his hand, wriggling, insistent, seeking the spongy lump seated at the base of Harold's penis. Finding it, John stroked along the gland's rim; pressing down with the slightest of pressure. 

_"Ah....J-John!"_

Finch's back arched as much as it was capable of, responding to the stimulating massage of Reese's finger. _If anyone told me twenty years ago that I’d be getting the best sex of my life in my fifties I’d have them declared clinically insane._ Sparks of pleasure ticked from his groin up his spine. His half-erect penis stiffened at his partner's touch, firming up to brush against his own stomach.

The recluse's mouth hung open as he began to pant. A warm hand closed around his shaft, sliding up to his crown. John's thumb teased his slit, smearing pre-seminal fluid over his already sensitive head. _It’s so...so much more than just that,_ Harold thought. _He...ah...God!_

Reese's tongue licked him with bold, possessive strokes; taking over what the op's fingers had begun. Harold spared a stray thought to marvel at the man's flexibility before John's hungry lips sucked him in; distracting him.

_"Please!"_ Finch plea was barely audible. 

Reese's mouth slid up and down, mimicking the thrusts of his finger and Harold's moans grew more needy. The sun was superfluous now...his entire body was flooded with the heat that only being with John brought. John's voice, John's touch, _his love_. Finch's belly tightened; a hard knot of aching want settling there that seemed to pull his whole being into it, coiling in on its self until....

Reese felt the recluse's hips buck towards him; felt the spurting warmth fill his mouth and swallowed with eager happiness. _Mine! You are mine, Harold Finch....not the world's, not the irrelevants' and NOT your damn Machine's! You belong to me._

John released Finch’s softening organ and sat up, his finger still buried deep inside the older man.

“Look at me, Harold! _Look at me!_ ”

Finch’s eyes fluttered open and he watched his partner take hold of himself, pumping hard as his finger pushed against the billionaire’s prostate once more. The stimulation was intense, almost to the point of being painful and Harold gasped. One hand scrabbled at his side; finding his glasses and shoving them on his face, his gaze locked on Reese’s frantic self-pleasuring. 

“Do you.....do you know why I’m so hard?” John panted. “Because of you, Harold Finch....thinking about you....touching you, _tasting you!_ ” The op worked himself faster, sliding his finger over his partner‘s spongy gland. Reese felt Harold’s muscles clench in response to his movements; the smaller man's moans spurring him on.

“I want you so much, Finch....I need you...just... _damn!_ ”

With a final cry, John climaxed; his essence branding the man spread-eagled beneath him...marking him as Reese’s own. He eased his finger out of Harold gently and, his strength giving out at last, John slid his long body over Finch’s; his elbows keeping most of his weight off the older man.

Finch lay still underneath his partner; a storm of emotions whirling through him. He could feel John’s body trembling from both his emotional and physical release. His eyes grew moist and he reached up to stroke the back of Reese’s head, his touch soothing the younger man. The sense of completeness he felt with John awed him. 

_If someone told me that I wouldn't find the other half of my soul until I was in my middle years I’d have been...angry;_ Harold realized with a start... _angry that I would have to wait so long before I could have this kind of happiness._ He dispelled this negative line of thinking and spoke quietly to the man who’s head was resting on his chest. 

“I need you too John...you mean so much to me. More than I can ever convey to you.” Finch smiled as he felt the op’s lips brush his skin. “What you've given me is the greatest, most precious gift anyone could give me."

Harold brought his other hand up so that Reese's head was cradled in his reassuring grip. "I love you, John Reese."

John surged up Finch's body to share a deep kiss. He exhaled, forehead pressed to Harold's and smiled. For a long moment both men didn't move; content just to be with each other.

_Reese got them cleaned up and helping Harold turn on his good side, spooned him; the op's strong arms cradling Finch's body against his chest. Harold yawned and setting his glasses aside let sleep settle over him again...at peace with the world for the moment._

_A curious squirrel watched the sleeping men, its bushy tail flicking back and forth as it assessed the potential threats. Satisfied that the large predators were not going anywhere soon, the arboreal rodent continued on its way._

**poipoipoipoipoipoipoipoipoi**

 

_The hike back to their camp took longer and if both men tended to brush shoulders or embrace as they paused to watch birds, then there was no-one around to give censure to their actions._

Once at the tent, Finch traded hiking boots for the sandals John had given him. The recluse watched as his partner built up the fire; only realizing then how hungry he was. _Not surprising you worked up an appetite, old man and not just from the hike._

"The steaks I brought should have thawed by now. How's that sound for dinner?"

"Wonderful....I'm famished."

Blue eyes caught his gaze, dancing with mischief. "I can't imagine why, Finch."

Harold felt his cheeks grow warm but he smiled back at John. "I bet."

Reese cracked a grin and jogged off to the car for their cooler. As John returned with the ice chest Finch had thought ridiculously expensive at its purchase; the recluse suddenly recalled a conversation they'd had when Reese's camping gear began to arrive. 

Remembering the difficult time he'd given his partner, Harold was reluctant to broach the subject again. He took a deep breath and decided to try. "John?"

"Yes?" The hesitancy in his partner's voice made Reese wary.

"I thought perhaps..."

"Perhaps what?" John frowned in puzzlement. "Is everything alright?"

"Yes of course...I just wondered if we might make ice cream?"

"Anything you say Harold." John laughed, the pleasure in the op's reply erasing the last of Finch's embarrassment.

The two men worked together to prepare the concoction; Finch now praising his partner's choice of cooler. _"I can't believe we still have ice!"_ When the ingredients had been mixed, they added ice and salt to the acrylic ball. John secured the caps and they began to toss it back and forth.

Finch was delighted. Far from feeling foolish at engaging in 'a children's activity', the recluse was startled to find himself smiling. He and Reese worked hard; almost without cessation and to have time to relax...to _play_ , was such a unique experience to the recluse. He found himself trying more fancy returns as his confidence in his abilities grew.

John was an excellent partner for playing catch. The skills he'd honed as a sniper enabled him to throw with unerring accuracy, pitching the ball to Harold in a way that allowed the older man to catch it with grace. The op laughed out of sheer joy when Finch scooped the green sphere out of the air above his head, holding it up like a goalie after a particularly elegant save. The answering smile on Finch’s face made him want to take Harold right where he stood and he felt his cheeks flush at the thought.

_This is what I’d hoped for.....he’s happy! My God, does he even know how beautiful he is?!_

Distracted by these thoughts, John inadvertently tossed the ice-cream maker back to Harold with more zeal than he had before. The billionaire leaned a bit too far to the right to try and catch it and wound up sprawling on his backside in the grass. The op was at his side in an instant, reaching down to give Finch a hand up. He paused, arm still extended as he realized his partner was laughing.

“Harold?”

The older man seized the outstretched hand and yanked, pulling Reese off-balance and causing him to fall down next to him. Before the op could get his hands braced to sit up, Finch rolled over on top of him. John's arms wrapped around him for support and he smiled down at the bewildered expression Reese's face. Harold laughed again, reaching behind John's head to capture the wayward ball and shook it experimentally.

"I think it's set." He unscrewed the outer and inner caps and dipped up a fingerful of the soft concoction. To his partner's utter delight, Finch stuck the cream coated digit in his own mouth and made a pleased sound.

"Not bad...what do you think?" The recluse offered a sample to the man underneath him and smiled when John's warm mouth enveloped his index finger. Reese sucked every trace of vanilla-peppermint flavored coolness from Finch's extremity, closing his teeth over its sensitive tip in a gentle love-bite. He allowed the recluse to reclaim his finger.

"Great choice of flavors, Finch." 

"I concur...how unfortunate that we don't have utensils though."

"I'll get bowls," John started to move only to freeze at Finch's hand pushing against his shoulder. The older man's eyes were speculative.

"No need, Mr. Reese. With your co-operation," Harold began to unbutton the op's shirt, "I think we can make do quite admirably."

John settled back against the grass, resting his hands behind his head. "I'm all yours, Harold."

**poipoipoipoipoipoipoipoipoi**

NOTES: Sorry to end things there everyone but an update _picking up exactly where this chapter leaves off_ will be forthcoming soon. Thanks for sticking with the longest weekend camping trip ever!


	10. Vanilla Smooth

Title: Natural Inclinations  
Chapter X: Vanilla Smooth  
Rating: M (tomfoolery and sex ahead)  
Pairing: Reese/Finch (established relationship)

NOTES: Will this weekend ever _end_?! Dear God, I hope so! lol.... Seriously, the boys' camping trip has been fun to write and to all of you who have stuck with my sporadic updates, I say a heartfelt THANK YOU!! Re-cap: It's late Saturday afternoon and Finch and Reese are about to enjoy some homemade ice cream.

**poipoipoipoipoipoipoipoipoi**

_**previously on 'Natural Inclinations':** _

_"Not bad...what do you think?" The recluse offered a sample to the man underneath him and smiled when John's warm mouth enveloped his index finger. Reese sucked every trace of vanilla-peppermint flavored coolness from Finch's extremity, closing his teeth over its sensitive tip in a gentle love-bite. He allowed the recluse to reclaim his finger._

_"Great choice of flavors, Finch."_

_"I concur...how unfortunate that we don't have utensils though."_

_"I'll get bowls," John started to move only to freeze at Finch's hand pushing against his shoulder. The older man's eyes were speculative._

_"No need, Mr. Reese. With your co-operation," Harold began to unbutton the op's shirt, "I think we can make do quite admirably."_

_John settled back against the grass, resting his hands behind his head. "I'm all yours, Finch."_

**poipoipoipoipoipoipoipoipoi**

 

Harold took his time baring Reese's lean torso to the sun once more. Finch marveled at the sight before him; trailing his fingers lightly over smooth skin, feeling the muscles underneath flex in response. 

It was a source of never-ending wonder to the recluse that John wanted to be with him; so much so that he would coax Harold into sharing what Finch sensed would normally have been a solitary experience for the op. In truth, although the day began with challenges, it had turned into one of the most pleasant Harold had enjoyed in a very long time.

To have Reese relaxed beneath him, his blue eyes bright with mirth for a change was a precious gift indeed. _He works so hard, almost without respite. What we do takes its toll on us both but surely John bears the greatest strain; runs the greatest risks…I'm glad I agreed to do this, to have this time with him._

Finch smiled as he thought about his earlier misadventure and could see the humor in it now. _No harm done and John was very efficient in how he dealt with the skunk....and after._ The smile widened as Harold remembered their shower.

"Close your eyes." 

Reese did so at once, without comment and the knowledge that Finch was the only person John trusted so implicitly was sobering to Harold. 

John gasped as a blob of cold wetness was pressed into his nipple, arching his back as Finch's fingertip smeared the ice-cream over sensitive skin. Harold's smile was smug as he covered the now tight node with his mouth.

_"Damn….Harold!"_ The warmth of Finch's tongue as it lapped the melting coolness from John's chest was overwhelming. The op felt his cock stir, acutely aware of it poking Finch in the belly.

Harold bit down, trapping the wrinkled bud between his teeth, reveling in John's grunt of pleasure. Releasing the captive bit of flesh, Finch locked eyes with his partner, rubbing his hips against the op's and smiling once more.

"I think I've just developed a intense craving for sweets, Mr. Reese…." he commented, reaching down to unfasten John's shorts. Finch abandoned further speech as his mouth became involved with other pursuits.

**poipoipoipoipoipoipoipoipoi**

 

By the time the sun set, dinner was long gone. Reese had been amazed that Finch had not only eaten his entire steak but had asked for it medium rare. John smirked at the dichotomy of watching Harold meticulously clean his hands with a wet wipe while still sporting two days worth of stubble along his cheeks. 

This relaxed, calm Finch was a far cry from the anxious, uncertain man that had stepped out of his shiny, new SUV two days ago. Reese knew that as soon as they returned to civilization, Harold would revert to his normal behavior patterns but the op couldn’t help hoping that his partner would keep a hint of his newly gained confidence. Finch was tenacious, tough as nails...a survivor. All facts that tended to get buried by the recluse’s penchant for self-doubt. 

Finch disposed of the sanitary wipe and settled into his camp chair, sighing in satisfaction. His stomach was full, he was pleasantly weary, from positive experiences rather than the aftermath of stress this time, and his soul was at peace. “The steak was excellent, Mr. Reese. Thank you for shouldering the burden of cooking. I admit freely that you are much better at it than I could hope to be.”

“Thanks Finch, it’s high praise just to have someone enjoy it so much.”

Harold’s cheeks pinked...he’d all but ripped the cut of meat into pieces, wolfing it down with a blatant disregard for proper table etiquette. “Well....I was hungry. Feel free to blame my lack of manners on our earlier activities.”

John laughed. “Point taken. However,” he pulled two buckets of lake water over to the ring of stones beside them, “now that we’re done with dinner, it’s time for the show.”

“Please not a harmonica!” Finch shuddered at the thought of being subjected to what he derisively termed ’hobo music’.

Reese shook his head. “I was thinking more of the visual arts, actually.” The op thought back to his partner's request during their 'dessert session', smirking at Finch.

"Close your eyes."

Harold did so and heard a hissing sound as the op extinguished their campfire with water. Finch felt an atavistic apprehensiveness tighten his shoulder muscles as the flickering light of the flames was no longer discernible through his eyelids. He shook his head to dispel his unease. _John is here…we'll be fine._

Finch heard the quiet creak of Reese settling back into his camp chair. 

"Give it a minute or two Harold. Just listen to the sounds." John's fingers captured his own and their arms rested side by side along Reese's thigh. 

Finch could hear a multitude of cricket chirps, punctuated by the _krik-en-krik_ of katydids in the surrounding trees. A splash came from the lake. _Fish rising to feed on the mosquitoes…_ Finch sent mental thank yous to the hungry pisceans. A low, sonorous _hoo-who-who….whooo, whooo_ echoed over the water and Harold grinned to know that his Great Horned Owl had returned.

"Alright…tilt your head back a bit and open your eyes."

Finch let out a quiet _"Oh!"_ in wonder at the veritable wash of stars transforming the black void of the night sky into an Impressionist's landscape of spattered flecks of light. Harold could clearly see a bright ribbon of pinpoints tracking almost directly overhead.

"My goodness! That's the milky way."

John's quiet chuckle accompanied a squeeze of Finch's fingers. 

"Nice to know it's still there, even though we can't see it in town.”

Harold gazed spellbound at the beauty above him. He picked out the summer constellations he'd learned as a boy while taking his first solo steps into astronomy with a department store telescope. A rush of nostalgic melancholy overwhelmed him and Finch was ashamed to feel his eyes growing moist. He turned his head to try and hide his weakness, only to have Reese's fingers stroke his cheek; wiping away the tears.

"Takes you back, doesn't it? I keep thinking of my old scout troop in Pullyaup and the campouts we'd go on." 

"John…."

"I know, Harold."

Reese slipped out of his chair, settling himself between Finch's knees, the back of his head resting in the billionaire's lap. He felt Harold card through his hair; the tenderness palpable in his touch causing a lump to form in Reese's throat.

Harold's voice was soft as hands so adept and manipulating delicate computer components now reaffirmed his attachment to his partner. "I told you once that I knew exactly everything about you, Mr. Reese."

"What I could never have predicted however, was that you would one day come to love me as much as I have grown to love you."

Finch felt John's strong hands cup his ankles, sliding up his legs to caress his calves before returning to rub the top of his feet. "I never thought I'd be able to love again…not after." 

Reese broke off, pressing a kiss against Finch's knee. "You gave me back my life, Harold. Gave me hope and that let me feel again. That allowed me be free to love _you_."

They sat in silence for a long time, words having now become superfluous. When at last they retired to the tent, they made love slowly; reacquainting themselves with each other through the gentle exploration of hands and mouths.

**poipoipoipoipoipoipoipoipoi**

Notes: Okay, I know I promised groovy ice-cream sex to all of you and for the lack of it I do apologize. I tried....I really did but it just wasn't turning out the way I wanted it to. To make up for this: Chapter 11 of Natural Inclinations should be posted by this afternoon and I will deliver handsomely on explicitness for my readers. Patience is a virtue and yours will be rewarded! Thanks again for reading!!


	11. Morning Exercises

Title: Natural Inclinations  
Chapter XI: Morning Exercises  
Rating: M (lots of sex ahead)  
Pairing: Reese/Finch (established relationship)

NOTES: Sweet Sunday morning is here at last! 

**poipoipoipoipoipoipoipoipoi**

 

Harold Finch shivered, pulling the cotton throw closer around him as he reached instinctively for his partner. The space next to him was empty….and cold. The recluse's eyes snapped open, one hand groping at his side for his glasses. Reese was not in the tent; its zippered flap securely closed.

Harold levered himself up off the mattress, pulling on the first shirt that came to hand and his sandals. Limping to the entrance, Finch cast a glance at Reese's side of the bed. The op's SIG rested atop a pair of shorts, its clip a short distance away.

The recluse sighed in relief. If there had been any danger, Reese would have taken the firearm with him _and I would have been woken by the sound of shots._ Finch still opened the tent flap quietly, unwilling to disturb John if he were 'occupied'. 

Harold stepped out into the early morning and saw perfection standing before him. There was no other word for it really. Perched on his yoga mat, completely nude, John Reese stood in the tree position. He was facing west, head turned towards the lake and a slight sheen of sweat caused his skin to shimmer in the sunlight.

_Oh my God......_ Finch was powerless to look away, not that he wanted to. Every iota of his attention was centered on Reese's smooth, flowing movements. The play of muscles beneath his bronze skin was mesmerizing, even more so as John was to all appearances oblivious of his audience.

The op eased into warrior two, holding it for a full minute before shifting to low warrior and then sunbird. Harold felt a warmth flood his belly, his penis twitching in response to the sight of John’s scrotum now in full view. Reese’s glutes flexed as he moved into child and Finch couldn’t stifle a groan as he reached beneath his shirttails to stroke himself into further arousal. 

John looked back over his shoulder, his face breaking into a huge smile as he took in his lover’s appearance. Harold was wearing one of his shirts, ridiculously large on the billionaire’s slight frame. Finch’s right hand was wrapped around his cock, precum already leaking from its head. 

“See something of interest, Mr. Finch?” Reese asked, arching up into the caterpillar and deliberately spreading his knees wider than the stance required.

“Damnit John!” Finch’s hips bucked forward, his fingers stroking his crown. “Faced with this, what do you expect me to do?”

“I _expect_ , Mr. Finch”, John replied, assuming the downward dog position. “For you to get some lube and fuck me senseless.” He laughed, not realizing how fast Harold could move when he needed to.

Reese was bent over one of the camp chairs, legs spread and waiting when Finch returned. Harold just stared at his partner for a long moment. Here was John Reese, ex-Army Ranger, former CIA assassin; a man capable of snapping Finch like a dry twig offering himself to the older man. _Willingly giving_ his body and his heart to whatever desires Finch wanted to fulfill.

Harold felt a sense of clarity settle over him. In this place, at this time he felt as if he were the shaman of some ancient people; repository of the knowledge and wisdom of the gods and that John had come to him in order to appease those gods. But Finch’s goal was not the subsumption of a sacrificial offering....no, Reese was his partner, his balance, the other half of his very soul. In surrendering himself to Finch John was saying _I love you....I trust you._ Harold was about to return that love a hundred-fold.

Without concern for who might be watching, Harold Finch slipped out of his shirt; discarding the garment on the dew-damp grass. Reese watched him approach, clad only in his sandals and the glorious riot of silvery brown hair that covered his body. John’s eyes settled on Finch’s crotch, smirking as the object of his interest bounced its nest of dark curls. The op’s gaze moved up to catch Finch’s eyes and his heart gave a startled thump as he saw the expression of open hunger in Harold’s face. He'd never seen his lover so raw.... _primitive_ even. Reese felt his own cock stirring in response.

_It had come as a surprise to Harold when, after only a week of shared intimacies, Reese had asked Finch if he would be willing to have intercourse. When Harold realized John wanted to be on the receiving end of things, he was taken so off guard that Reese at first thought he'd offended the other man._

_Finch had hastened to reassure John that he was interested, explaining that he never thought Reese would want that from him. "I need this Harold....need to know that I belong to you, with you. Need you to be a part of me."_

_Finch, with judicious rests and rehydration, had managed to fulfill John's request three times that night._

Harold ran his hands over the prone man’s back, taking his time mapping out the muscle groups, the line of Reese’s backbone, the planes of his hips and at last caressing his cheeks. “John....” he breathed, his voice reverent. Finch smiled as he felt the gluteus muscles clench and release beneath his fingers.

“I am going to make you feel so good, John. Trust me.”

“Always.....”

Finch squeezed a liberal amount of lubricant into his palm, rubbing the fingers of his opposite hand briskly through it to warm it up. He slipped his forefinger inside Reese’s crack, reaching for the hot, puckered ring of muscles protecting his opening.

John groaned as he felt Finch’s fingertip stroke him. Instinctively he tried to push towards his lover, only to be stilled by a gentle hand on the small of his back.

“No....let me....this is my time.”

“Yes.”

Harold smiled as he continued to work the slackening muscles, pleased that John was relaxing so easily beneath his touch. He stood so close that their calves brushed, an almost palpable current running between them at this casual contact. Finch slipped his finger inside Reese, pressing against the hot walls; knowing that even the smallest stroke would be magnified in intensity by the sensitive tissues.

John sucked in great gulps of air, widening his stance in response to the additional finger Harold inserted. A pull, a push, gentle manipulations that increased as Reese relaxed still further; Finch dipped deep enough to run a fingertip over John’s prostate.

_“Hell Finch!”_

The recluse laughed, repeating the teasing caress. “I was hoping it would be _heavenly_ instead.” Finch stroked the gland once more before withdrawing his fingers an inch. “I could stop if you prefer.”

“If you do it had better be to replace your hand with something more appropriate!” Reese growled.

“By all means, if you insist.” Harold scissored his fingers once more and stepped closer to his partner. Slowly he pressed his cock into Reese. He always enjoyed the sensation of sinking into John...becoming one with him almost as if in a kind of communion. _In a way it is, I suppose...yin and yang, the physical and mental joining together. All I know is that this...._ and Finch moaned as he pushed all the way inside Reese, feeling his lover’s scrotum brush his own, _is like nothing I’ve experienced before_.

John held his breath as Finch stilled, letting the feeling of fullness encompass him. With him, penetration was never about possession or ownership; dominance or submission. It was about trust and desire and his overwhelming need to be connected to the one good thing that had ever happened to him in his adult life. Reese felt his heart contract with an abiding happiness. He exhaled two words.

_“Harold...please.”_

As if all he’d been waiting for was this simple request, Finch began to move, sliding in and out of the tight channel with slow, sure strokes. Each push brushed against Reese’s prostate, causing precum to ooze from the op’s slit; the clear liquid strings dripping onto the grass. 

John’s vocalizations synched with his lover’s movements as Finch picked up his pace, reaching around Reese’s waist to grip his slippery cock, stroking it with purposeful assurance. Harold was getting close and tightened his grip on John’s organ, brushing his fingertips across the sensitive slit. With a strangled shout, Reese reached his climax; his hot semen spilling into Finch’s cupped hand as Harold pushed once again into him, sending himself over the edge. 

Harold slumped forward, his full weight collapsing onto Reese’s broad shoulders. John gladly bore it. He loved the feel of Finch’s slender body on his, supporting him literally; as Harold always had Reese in numerous other ways. If Finch would allow it, John would carry him just for the sheer bliss of being able to. Harold never would...the recluse was fiercely independent, one of the many traits John loved about him. That being said, Finch showed his partner every day in a thousand different ways how much he loved John. The past few days had only made it more apparent, as they both well knew.

Reese caught his breath, sighing. “You okay there, Harold?”

“I think my heart may have given out at last...”

John’s rumble of laughter vibrated through Finch’s chest. “If it had, you wouldn’t be talking now, would you?”

“Infernal logic foils me again.” Finch braced his hands on the back beneath him and disengaged himself from his lover. 

At once Reese stood up and turned to gather Harold in his arms, holding him steady as the older man recuperated. Finch looked up at him, quirking an eyebrow.

“Are you sufficiently fucked, Mr. Reese?”

“Thoroughly and happily, Finch.”

“Good. As enjoyable as that was, I don’t think I could manage it again without breakfast and a nap.”

“Let’s hit the shower first and then put your plan into action.”

“Only if you scrub my back.” Harold smirked “Age hath it privilege after all.”

**poipoipoipoipoipoipoipoipoi**

NOTES: Okay, this is what happens when I re-read my stories and look at a chart of yoga positions. I tried to pick ones that would flow most naturally into one another as well as be erotically enticing to any watching birdies (lol)! Hope this was worth the wait and you enjoy it!


	12. Home Again

Title: Natural Inclinations  
Chapter XII: Home Again  
Rating: PG-13   
Pairing: Reese/Finch (established relationship)  
Genre: Slash, Angst, Fluff  
Word Count: 1600

 

NOTES: Take heed, the end is nigh!

**poipoipoipoipoipoipoipoipoi**

 

Harold woke the second time that day to find himself the solo occupant of the air bed. Faint sounds of movement and the quiet strains of a baritone voice carried to him from outside the tent. The recluse smiled as he recognized the lyrics to a Louis Armstrong tune that had recently become a favorite of theirs.

Finch knew that John would be packing up the excess gear they wouldn't be needing. _His military training for keeping a bivouac site tidy kicking in, I imagine._ Leaning over to gather up his glasses and iPhone, Harold glanced at the time....11:00 a.m., he had slept in after their shower and breakfast. Finch felt no guilt as he stretched; carefully working the muscles in his back and legs, for once blissfully relaxed.

_48 hours ago I couldn't have imagined I'd like this experience....._ now, however Harold was surprised by a twinge of melancholy. He really had enjoyed this weekend away with John and although they did have to return to the city, Finch wondered if he could persuade Reese into staying one more night. _I'd better broach the subject now, before he packs everything._

Harold snagged his cargo shorts and was reaching for a pair of boxers when an irreverent thought tickled his brain. Grinning, he donned the shorts and a clean shirt; automatically strapping on his Tevas and left the tent. Finch's smile widened as a stray breeze slipped up his cuff. Harold adjusted himself so that he was comfortably 'dressed to the left'. The brush of air against his genitals sent a delicious shiver up the recluse's spine, as if he were illicitly exposing himself even though there was nothing on obvious display. _I haven't gone commando since I was six. I never realized it was so...refreshing. It will make things easier to if we engage in any impromptu activities._

Sure enough Reese was up to his elbows in a daypack, stowing dirty laundry. He smiled as his partner approached. "Good morning again."

"John, would you be interested in-"

'Harold would you mind our-"

"staying another night?" they finished in unison. Both men gaped at each other a moment before bursting into laughter.

"I'll assume that is a _yes_ , shall I Mr. Reese?"

"I was hoping you might want to." John put down the pack and embraced Finch. 

"Are you sure you're okay with that?"

Harold nodded. "I think, if you're willing to risk it with me that is….I'd like to take another canoe ride."

John laughed again and the sheer joy in the sound made Finch a thousand times happier that he'd brought it up. 

"Harold I'll paddle you over every blessed inch of this lake for as long as you want me to." Reese's laughter died away and he looked down at his partner, quirking an eyebrow as he took a step back.

"Finch….are you?"

Aware that the friction of John's hips against his had made his lack of undergarments obvious, Finch ducked his head, blushing furiously. "I decided not to. Just in case we…um…."

"You tease." John's hand slipped down to cup his stiffening shaft. "You realize I'm going to have-"

The buzz of Finch's iPhone stopped Reese in mid-sentence. Harold pulled the mobile out of his pocket and tapping the screen held it to his ear. His expression confirmed John's fears. Even as the op moved towards the tent, Finch called after him.

"Just get the laptop bag and your pistol John. My staff will be on the property within the hour to collect everything else. They'll stow it all and the canoe in the garage with the Hummer."

"Call up the helicopter and here," Reese replied, handing Harold a small white pill and a canteen. "Take this."

_Dramamine,_ Harold realized as he downed the tablet. _I can't research our number if I'm throwing up._

Shouldering the laptop case, John picked up their hiking sticks and the two men headed to the vehicle. Their respite was over. It was time to go to work again, to once more make a difference.

**poipoipoipoipoipoipoipoipoi**

 

_six days later, Manhattan_

As if in retaliation for being abandoned by its Admin, the Machine delivered two more numbers in quick succession. Finch wound up sleeping at the library, or rather snatching an hour or two of rest there in between check ins with John. Reese was kept out in the field without pause until the last of their irrelevants, a thirty-something gold-digging social climber who couldn't wait for her elderly husband to die of natural causes, was safely behind bars at the Eighth Precinct house.

John slowly climbed the library stairs, every muscle in his body aching with fatigue. He wanted nothing more than a hot shower and to lay down next to Finch for at least twelve hours. When he made it to the reading room, Reese looked over at the bank of computers…Harold was conspicuous in his absence.

"Finch? You here?" John rocked back on his heels when he saw the familiar thatch of brown spiky hair resting on the arm of the worn leather sofa. Finch was curled up on his good side, quilt wrapped around his body and dead to the world. Reese smiled; Harold had been too tired to remove his glasses before falling asleep. 

John lifted them gently from his partner's face, stroking his forehead briefly and went to lay them by Finch's workstation. He glanced at the monitor and did a double-take. The screen saver had gone active and the op watched as a series of digital images cycled across the monitor. Sunset over the lake; John relaxing in a camp chair, fishing pole at his side; John cooking; a heron catching a fish; a bird's nest, the tiny down-covered chicks within it gaping for food, and finally….

John smiled as a photograph of himself, shirtless and sprawled out dozing underneath a tree, appeared. One hand was behind his neck, the other loosely clasped a paperback copy of 'Mornings on Horseback' by David McCullough. _How did he manage to take this without me hearing him? I must have….oh!_ Reese remembered that bit of downtime. Finch had brought him some water and granola and they'd wound up making out underneath that same tree. 

"That one is my favorite…" John turned at the quiet comment from over his shoulder. Finch stood at his side, clutching the quilt around his shoulders and smiling shyly, blinking sleep-puffy eyes. 

"Because you're so relaxed and because of…after."

The op gathered Finch up in his arms, heedless of the querulous protests his partner was now making. John carried Harold back to the storage room they'd converted into makeshift sleeping quarters and set him on the edge of the queen-sized bed. Reese handed a huffy Finch his glasses and pulled out his phone. Kneeling, John tapped the screen; the obvious intensity of his search transmuting Harold’s displeasure at being ‘coddled’ into curiosity.

“What are-”

The op offered Finch the phone and looking down, the recluse saw a photograph of himself; mouth slightly open in a silent laugh, his mirthful eyes intent on the book in his lap. Harold stared at it. He tried to recall any photograph in his adult life in which he’d looked so happy. _Not even in the one of Nathan and myself shortly after we left MIT._

Oh yes, Finch had been pleased...so had Ingram. They’d just pitched their personal computer hardware and software ideas to potential investors, very successfully in fact. That picture had been taken the following weekend, by a passing hiker, as he and Nathan had been wandering the mountains of upstate New York, discussing business plans.

But _this_ image.... _I actually do look happy. I **was** happy....I still am._ Finch looked up and was surprised to see his partner’s eyes moist. Reese smiled at him; a true smile full of warmth. 

“This is _my_ favorite. Not because you’re wearing shorts and sandals instead of a three-piece suit or the fact that I managed to coax ‘Harold-Finch-Reclusive-Billionaire-Genius’ out of the city and into the woods.” John scratched the side of his neck, feeling self-conscious.

“It’s my favorite because it’s of you just being _you_. Because it’s a picture of Harold, the man I love.”

All of Finch's exasperation drained away and he reached out to hug the op. 

_"John....."_ Harold's voice hitched as the uncertainty of the past week and exhaustion caught up with him at last.

Reese eased the smaller man down, settling first Finch then himself on the mattress and pulling Harold's quilt over them both. Showers could wait. What he and Finch needed most was each others' company.

"I'm glad you had a good time, Harold."

"I wouldn't have missed it. Thank you for putting up with me." Finch rested his head against John's chest, wrapping his slender arms around the larger man. 

"Wouldn't have had it any other way." Reese sighed, nose buried in Finch's hair. 

"Do you think you'd like to go again....sometime?" 

Harold hid his smile at the wistfulness in John's tone. "Oh, I think so. We have all that wonderful gear...it would be a shame to let it go to waste, don't you agree?"

John's reply, although silent, was very thorough and most definitely in the affirmative.

**poipoipoipoipoipoipoipoipoipoi**

 

NOTES: Well....as the talking pig once said: "That's All Folks!" At long, long last our camping trip has come to an end and I want to thank all the readers who've stuck with this sojourn in the wilderness. I hope everyone has enjoyed it and to all who left kudos or comments, I'm most grateful for the feedback.

I want to take one last opportunity to thank Mamahub for her encouragement of my silly ideas and for being an enthusiastic cheerleader for 'Natural Inclinations'. I truly have had so much fun writing this story and it's become one of my favorites. Having said that, I'm glad it is finally done....I just ran out of insect repellent!


End file.
